JOHNNIE 
COURTEAU 

WILLIAM HENRY DRUNMOND 




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By WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 



The Habitant, and other French-Canadian 
Poems. Illustrated by Frederick Simiison 
Coburn. Library edition. 8° . . . 
Large-paper edition, with 13 full-page photo- 
gravures. 8° .... . 

" Dr. Dnimmond has managed to move us to tears, as 
well as laughter. He has evidently a minute knowledge 
of, and kindly sympathy with, the simple country folk of 
the Dominion. As a whole, the book is a most delight- 
ful one." — London Spectator. 

Johnnie Courteau, and other Poems. Illus- 
trated by Frederick S. Coburn. 
Popular edition. 8°. Illustrated, 
Large-paper edition. 8°. With 17 photo- 
gravure illustrations and text cuts, 

Phil-o-rum's Canoe and Madeleine Ver- 
cheres. Two Poems. With photogravure 
illustrations from designs by P'rederick Simp- 
son Coburn. 8° . 



G. r. PUTNAM'S SONS 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 



The Cur6 of Calumette. 



^JOHNNIE 
COURTEAU 

:::::: AND 

OTHER POCnS 

^ Bv William Henrv 
Druminond o^ ^ 

Author of " The Habitant," etc. 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

rrederick 5imDSor\ Coburn 



New York and London 

G. P. Putnam's Sons 

1901 



Caj^^ 



Hoi 



Col'VKKiUI, 1I)C)I 



WILLIAM Hl'.NRY DKUMMOND 






Cbc HxiUclicibochcr Ipicoe, HAcw i'orb 



on 

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DKDICATICI) TO 

HON. \>\<yi'ER WIIITIC, A.M. 

MAKouirni':, MicnicAN 



'I'lic (Ic.ircst friciiil lo im-, lli<: kindest iiiiiii, 
The best conditioii'd ,'ind uiiwcuricd S|)irit 
In (IdinK cuurtcsies," 

Mi'tiluiiit of i'm/i t 




CONTENTS 



Johnnie Courtkau 
Tills C^ORDUROv Road 
The Curk of Calumette 

The Oyster Schooner 

My LiiTLE Cahane 

Bateese the Lucky Man 

The Hii.l of St. Sebastien. 

Marh", Louise 

The Old House and the New 

The Canadian C^iunirv Docioi 

Mon Frere Camili.e . 

'I'liE Hauitant's Summer 

Little Lac Grenier . 

The Windic.o 

Na'i'ional Policy 

Autumn Days 

Madeleine Vercheres 

The Rose Deli ma 



3 
7 

"3 

19 

23 

'28 

31 

35 
40 

47 
52 
59 

^'5 
67 

77 
81 
84 

91 



VI 



Contents 



l-iTii.K Mouse 
Siraiucona's Horse . 
Johnnie's First Moose 
TiiK (^i,n TiNK Tree 

Ll 1 TI.E liATEESE . 

Donal' Campbell 
The Dublin Fusilier , 

Dreams 

The Old Sexton , 
C'liu.n Tiioui^.iri-s . 

BaTEESE AND HIS I-ITTLE DeCOYS 

Phit.-o-Ritm's Canoe . 

The Log Jam 

The Canadian Magpie 

The Red Canoe . 

Two Hundred Years Ago . 



TAGB 
102 
I 06 
108 

ii6 
118 
121 
1 26 
128 
132 

135 
140 

M5 

155 
157 



Remember wlieii Ihcsc tales yiiu reail 
Of rude but honest "Canayen," 
That Juliet, La Verandrye, 
La Salle, Marquette, and Hennepin 
Were all true " Canayen " themselves — 
And in their veins the same red stream : 
The conciuering blood of Normandie 
Flowed strong, and gave America 
Coureurs de bois and voyageurs 
Whose trail extends from sea to sea ! 



Johnnie Courteau 



Johnnie Courteau 



JOHNNIE Courteau of de mountain 
Johnnie Courteau of de hill 
Dat was de boy can shoot de gun 
Dat was de boy can jomp an' run 
An' it 's not very offen you ketch heem still 

Johnnie Courteau ! 

Ax dem along de reever 

Ax dem along de shore 

Who was de mos' bes' fightin' man 

From Managance to Shaw-in-i-gan ? 

De place w'ere de great beeg rapide roar, 

Johnnie Courteau ! 

Sam' t'ing on ev'ry shaintee 

Up on de Mekinac 

Who was de man can walk de log, 

W'en w'ole of de reever she 's black wit' fog 

An' carry de beeges' load on hees back ? 

Johnnie Courteau! 

On de rapide you want to see heem 
If de raf she 's swingin' roun' 



4 Johnnie Courteau 

An* he 's yellin' " Hooraw Bateese ! good 

man ! " 
W'y de oar come double on hees han' 
Wen he 's makin' dat raf go flyin' down 

Johnnie Courteau! 

An' Tete de Boule chief can tole you 

De feller w'at save hees life 

Wen beeg moose ketch heem up a tree 

Who 's shootin' dat moose on de head, sapree! 

An' den run off wit' hees Injun wife ? 

Johnnie Courteau! 

An' he only have pike pole wit' heem 
On Lac a la Tortue 

Wen he meet de bear comin' down de hill 
But de bear very soon is get hees fill ! 
An' he sole dat skin for ten dollar too, 

Johnnie Courteau ! 

Oh he never was scare for not'ing 
Lak de ole coureurs de bois, 
But w'en he 's gettin' hees winter pay 
De bes' t'ing sure is kip out de way 
For he 's goin' right off on de Hip Hooraw! 

Johnnie Courteau ! 

Den pullin* hees sash aroun' heem 

He dance on hees botte sauvage 

An' shout " All aboar' if you want to fight! " 



Johnnie Courteau 5 

Wall! you never can see de finer sight 
Wen he go lak dat on de w'ole village! 

Johnnie Courteau ! 

But Johnnie Courteau get marry- 
On Philomene Beaurepaire 
She 's nice leetle girl was run de school 
On w'at you call Parish of Sainte Ursule 
An' he see her off on de pique-nique dere 

Johnnie Courteau! 

Den somet'ing come over Johnnie 
Wen he marry on Philomene 
For he stay on de farm de w'ole year roun' 
He chop de wood an' he plough de groun' 
An' he 's quieter feller was never seen, 

Johnnie Courteau! 

An' ev'ry wan feel astonish 

From La Tuque to Shaw-in-i-gan 

Wen dey hear de news was goin' aroun' 

Along on de reever up an' down 

How wan leetle woman boss dat beeg man 

Johnnie Courteau! 

He never come out on de evening 

No matter de hard we try 

'Cos he stay on de kitchen an' sing hees song 

" A la claire fontaine, 

M'en allant promener, 

J'ai trouv^ I'eau si belle 



6 Johnnie Courteau 

Que je m'y suis baigner! 

Lui y'a longtemps que je t'aime 

Jamais je ne t'oublierai." 

Rockin' de cradle de w'ole night long 
Till baby 's asleep on de sweet bimeby 

Johnnie Courteau! 

An' de house, wall! I wish you see it 

De place she *s so nice an' clean 

Mus' wipe your foot on de outside door, 

You 're dead man sure if you spit on de floor, 

An' he never say not'ing on Philomene, 

Johnnie Courteau! 

An' Philomene watch de monee 

An' put it all safe away 

On very good place; I dunno w'ere 

But anyhow nobody see it dere 

So she 's buyin' new farm de noder day 

Madame Courteau ! 




The Corduroy Road 

DE corduroy road go bompety bomp, 
De corduroy road go jompety jomp, 
An' he 's takin' beeg chances upset hees load 
De horse dat '11 trot on de corduroy road. 

Of course it 's purty rough, but it's handy 

t'ing enough 
An' dey mak' it wit' de log all jine togeder 
Wen dey strek de swampy groun' w'ere de 

water hang aroun' 
Or passin' by some tough ole beaver medder. 



But it 's not macadamize, so if you 're only 

wise 
You will tak' your tarn an' never min' de 

worry 
For de corduroy is bad, an' will mak' you 

plaintee mad 
By de way de buggy jomp, in case you hurry. 

7 



8 The Corduroy Road 

An' I 'm sure you don't expec' leetle Victorine 

Leveque 
She was knowin' moche at all about dem 

places, 
'Cos she 's never dere before, till young Zeph- 

irin Mad ore 
He was takin' her away for see de races. 

O, I wish you see her den, dat 's before she 

marry, w'en 
She 's de fines' on de Ian' but no use talkin' 
I can bet you w'at you lak, if you meet her 

you look back 
Jus' to watch de fancy way dat girl is walkin'. 

Yass de leetle Victorine was de nices' girl be- 
tween 

De town of Yamachiche an' Maskinonge, 

But she 's stuck up an' she 's proud, an' you '11 
never count de crowd 

Of de boy she geev' it w'at dey call de conge. 

Ah ! de moder spoil her sure, for even Joe 

D'Amour 
W'en he 's ready nearly ev'ry t'ing to geev 

her 
If she mak' de mariee, only say, " please go 

away " 
An' he 's riches habitant alone de reever. 



The Corduroy Road 9 

Zephirin he try it too, an' he 's workin' some- 

t'ing new 
For he 's makin' de ole woman many presen' 
Prize package on de train, umbrella for de rain 
But she 's grompy all de tarn, an' never 

pleasan'. 



Wall, w'en he ax Ma-dame tak' de girl away 

dat tarn 
See dem races on Sorel wit' all de trotter 
De moder say " All right if you bring her 

home to-night 
Before de cow 's milk, I let her go, ma 

daughter." 



So Victorine she go wit' Zephirin her beau 
On de yankee buggy mak' it on St. Bruno 
An' w' en dey pass hotel on de middle of Sorel 
Dey 're puttin' on de beeges' style dat you 
know. 



Wall ! dey got some good horse dere, but 

Zephirin don't care 
He 's back it up hees own paroisse, ba golly. 
An' he mak' it t'ree doll-arre w'en Maskinonge 

Star 
Oh de two mile heat was beatin' Sorel Molly. 



lo The Corduroy Road 

Victorine don't min' at all, till de " free for 

all " dey call 
Dat 's de las' race dey was run before de snow fly 
Den she say " I t'ink de cow mus' be gettin' 

home soon now 
An' you know it 's onl}^ clock ole woman go by. 

An' if we 're comin' late w'en de cow pass on 

de gate 
You '11 be sorry if you hear de way she talk 

dere, 
So w'en I see de race on Sorel or any place 
Affer dis, you may be sure I got to walk dere." 

Den he laugh dat Zephirin, an' he say " Your 

poor mama 
I know de pile she t'ink about her daughter 
So we "11 tak' de short road back on de cor- 
duroy race track 
Don't matter if we got to sweem de water." 

No wonder he is smile till you hear heem half 

a mile 
For dat morning he was tole hees leetle broder 
Let de cattle out de gate, so he know it 's 

purty late 
By de tam dem cow was findin' out each oder. 

So along de corduroy de young girl an' de boy 
Dey was kipin' up a joggin' nice an' steady 



The Corduroy Road i r 

It is n't heavy load, an' Guillaume he know de 

road 
For many tarn he 's been dat way ah^eady. 



But de girl she fin' it slow, so she ax de boy 

to go 
Somet'ing better dan a mile on fifteen minute 
An' he 's touch heem up Guillaume; so dat 

horse he lay for home 
An' de nex' t'ing Victorine she know she 's 

in it. 



O, pull him in," she yell, " for even on Sorel 
I am sure I never see de quicker racer," 
But it 's leetle bit too late, for de horse is get 

hees gait 
An' de worse of all ba gosh! Guillaume 's a 

pacer. 

See hees tail upon de air, no wonder she was 

scare 
But she hang on lak de winter on T'ree 

Reever. 
Cryin' out — " please hoi' me tight, or I 'm 

comin' dead to-night 
An' ma poor ole moder dear, I got to leave 

her." 



12 The Corduroy Road 

Wit' her arm aroun' hees wais' ; she was doin' 

it in case 
She bus' her head, or keel herse'f, it 's not so 

easy sayin' 
Dey was comin' on de jomp t'roo dat dam ole 

beaver swamp 
An' meet de crowd is lookin' for dem cow was 

go a-strayin'. 

Den she 's cryin', Victorine, for she 's knowin' 

w'at it mean 
De parish dey was talkin' firse chances dey be 

gettin', 
But no sooner dat young man stop de horse, 

he tak' her han' 
An' w'isper " never min', ma chere, won't do 

no good a-frettin'." 

Non ! she is n't cryin' long, for he tole her it 

was wrong 
She 's sure he save her life too, or she was 

moche mistaken, 
An' de ole Ma-dame Leveque also kiss heem 

on de neck 
An' quickly affer dat Hooraw ! de man an' wife 

dey 're makin'. 



The Cure of Calumette 



[The Cure of a French Canadian parish, when summoned 
to the bedside of a dying member of his flock, always carries 
in his buggy or sleigh a bell. This bell serves two purposes : 
first, it has the effect of clearing a way for the passage of the 
good priest's vehicle, and, secondly, it calls to prayer those of 
the faithful who are within hearing of its solemn tones.] 



DERE 'S no voyageur on de reever never 
run hees canoe d'ecorce 
T'roo de roar an' de rush of de rapide, w'ere it 

jump lak a beeg w'ite horse, 
Dere 's no hunter man on de prairie, never 

wear w'at you call racquette 
Can beat leetle Fader O'Hara, de Cure of 
Calumette. 



Hees fader is full-blooded Irish, an' hees moder 

is pure Canayenne, 
Not offen dat stock go togedder, but she 's 

fine combination ma frien' 
13 



H The Cure of Calumette 

For de Irish he 's full of de devil, an' de French 

dey got savoir faire, 
Dat 's mak' it de very good balance an' tak' 

you mos' ev'ry vv'ere. 



But dere 's wan t'ing de Cure wont stan' it; 

mak' fun on de Irlandais 
An' of course on de French we say not'ing, 

'cos de parish she 's all Canayen, 
Den you see on account of de moder, he can't 

spik hese'f very moche, 
So de ole joke she 's all out of fashion, an' wan 

of dern t'ine we don't touch. 



Wall! wan of dat kin' is de Cure, but w'en he 

be comin' our place 
De peop' on de parish all w'isper, " How 

young he v/as look on hees face; 
Too bad if de wedder she keel heem de firse 

tam he got ieetle wet. 
An' de Bishop might sen' beeger Cure, for it 's 

purty tough place, Calumette! " 



Ha! ha! howl wish I was dere, me, w'en he 

go on de mission call 
On de shaintee camp way up de reever, drivin' 

hees own cariole, 



The Cure of Calumette 15 

An' he meet blaggar' feller been drinkin', jus' 
enough mak' heem ack lak fou, 

Joe Vadeboncoeur, dey was call heem, an' he 's 
purty beeg feller too! 

Mebbe Joe he don't know it 's de Cure, so he 's 

hollerin', " Get out de way, 
If you don't geev me whole of de roadside, 

sapree! you go off on de sleigh," 
But de Cure he never say not'ing, jus' poule 

on de line leetle bit, 
An' w'en Joe try for kip heem hees promise, 

hees nose it get badly hit. 



Maudit! he was strong leetle Cure, an' he go 

for Jo-zeph en masse 
An' w'en he is mak' it de finish, poor Joe 

is n't feel it firse class, 
So nex' tam de Cure he 's goin' for visit de 

shaintee encore 
Of course he was mak' beeges' mission never 

see on dat place before. 

An' he know more, I 'm sure dan de lawyer, 
an' dere 's many poor habitant 

Is slad for see Fader O'Hara, an* ax w'at he 
t'ink of de law 



1 6 The Cure of Calumette 

Wen dey get leetle troub' wit' each oder, an' 

don't know de bes' t'ing to do, 
Dat 's makin' dem save plaintee monee, an' 
kip de good neighbor too. 

But w'en we fin' out how he paddle till canoe 

she was nearly fly 
An' travel racquette on de winter, w'en snow- 

dreef is pilin' up high 
For visit some poor man or woman dat's waitin' 

de message of peace. 
An' get dem prepare for de journey, we 're 

proud on de leetle pries'! 



O! many dark night w'en de chil'ren is put 

away safe on de bed 
An' mese'f an' ma femme mebbe sittin' an* 

watchin' de small curly head 
We hear somet'ing else dan de roar of de ton- 

der, de win' an' de rain ; 
So we 're bote passin' out on de doorway, an' 

lissen an' lissen again. 



An' it 's lonesome for see de beeg cloud sweep- 
in' across de sky 

An' lonesome for hear de win' cryin' lak some- 
body 's goin' to die, 



The Cure of Calumette 17 

But de soun' away down de valley, creepin' 

aroun' de hill 
All de tain gettin' closer, closer, dat 's de soun' 

mak' de heart stan' still! 



It 's de bell of de leetle Cure, de music of deat' 

we hear. 
Along on de black road ringin', an' soon it was 

comin' near 
Wan minute de face of de Cure we see by de 

lantern light, 
An' he 's gone from us, jus' lak a shadder, into 

de stormy night. 

An' de buggy rush down de hill side an' over 

de bridge below, 
Were creek run so high on de spring-tam, 

w'en mountain t'row off de snow. 
An' so long as we hear heem goin', we kneel 

on de floor an' pray 
Dat God will look affer de Cure, an' de poor 

soul dat 's passin' away. 



I dunno if he need our prayer, but we geev' it 

heem jus' de sam'. 
For w'en a man 's doin' hees duty lak de Cure 

do all de tam 



1 8 The Cure of Calumette 

Nc'ver min' all de t'ing may happen, no matter 

he 's riche or poor 
Le bon Dieu was up on de heaven, will look 

out for dat man, I 'm sure, 

I 'm only poor habitant farmer, an' mebbe 

know not'ing at all. 
But dere 's wan t'ing I 'm alway wishin', an' 

dat 's w'en I get de call 
For travel de far-away journey, ev'ry wan on 

de worl' mus' go 
He '11 be wit' me de leetle Cure 'fore I 'm 

lefifin' dis place below. 

For I know I "11 be feel more easy, if he 's 

sittin' dere by de bed 
An' he '11 geev' me de good-bye message, an' 

place hees han' on ma head, 
Den I '11 hoi' if he '11 only let me, dat han' till 

de las' las* breat' 
An' bless leetle Fader O'Hara, de Cure of 

Calumette. 



The Oyster Schooner 

W'AT 'S all dem bell a ringin' for, can 
hear dem ev'ry were ? 
Wat 's bring de peop' togeder on de w'arf at 

Trois Rivieres, 
Dat happy crowd is look so glad, w'y are dey 

comin' dere ? 
O! de reason dey 're so happy w'ile dey 're 

waitin' dere to-day 
Is becos de oyster schooner she 's sailin' up de 

bay 
An' de caraquette an' malpecque will quickly 

melt away 
Affer she was t'row de anchor on T'ree Reever. 

For w'y dey mak' de fuss lak dat, an' nearly 
broke deir neck, 

Ain't dey got de noder oyster more better dan 
malpecque 

Or caraquette, dat leetle wan from down be- 
low Kebeck ? 

19 



20 The Oyster Schooner 

Wall! ax de crowd dat question w'ile dey *re 

waitin' dere to-day, 
So glad to see La Belle Marie sailin' up de bay, 
An' dey 'II drown you on de water, so you '11 

know about de way 
She was t'rowin' out de anchor on T'ree 

Reever. 

Dere 's ole Joe Lachapelle, he 's blin', can 

hardly see at all, 
He 's bring de man got wooden leg call Jimmie 

Sauriol, 
An' bote dem feller jomp aroun' lak rnooshrat 

on de fall, 
For dey know de schooner 's comin', she 's 

sailin' up de bay, 
An' de reason she don't hurry w'ile dey 're 

waitin' dere to-day. 
Is becos she 's full of oyster, will quickly pass 

away 
Wen dat schooner t'row de anchor on T'ree 

Reever. 

We 've trottin' race las' winter, an' circus on 

de spring, 
Wit' elephan' an' monkey too, all playin' on 

de ring. 
But beeger crowd she 's comin' now, for w'y ? 

it 's difTeren' t'ing. 



The Oyster Schooner 21 

For dey 're waitin' on dat schooner, she 's 

sailin' up de bay 
Dey smell de malpecque oyster an' caraquette 

to-day 
An' O! ba gosh, dey '11 eat dem ! it 's alway 

be de way 
Wen dat schooner t'row de anchor on T'ree 

Reever. 

She 's comin' in — she 's comin' in," jus' lis- 

sen to de cry ! 
Get out de line an' hoi' her fas', for fear 
she 's passin' by. 
For if dere 's somet'ing happen now, de peop' 

will surely die." 
Affer waitin' on dat schooner, she 's sailin' up 

de bay 
Lak de sparrow on de wood-pile watchin' all 

de day. 
But dey got her safe enough now, she '11 never 

sail away 
Till dem oyster she was finish on T'ree Reever. 

All aboar' — comment ca va, Captinne Beli- 
veau ? 

We 're glad to see you back again from Cara- 
quette below. 

But we 're sorry you don't hurry, w'en you got 
such nice car-g-o." 



2 2 The Oyster Schooner 

So dey ketch dat oyster schooner, she 's sailin' 

up de bay, 
Dey ketch her an' dey hoi' her till de oyster 's 

gone away 
An' she 's two foot out de water La Belle 

Marie nex' day 
Affer she was t row de anchor on T'ree Reever. 







I ''US*' 







'M sittin' to-night on ma leetle ca- 
bane, more happier dan de king, 
An' ev'ry corner 's ringin' out wit' 
musique de ole stove sing 
I hear de cry of de winter win', for de storm- 
gate 's open wide 
But I don't care not'ing for win' or storm, so 
long I was safe inside. 



Viens 'ci, mon chien, put your head on dere, 

let your nose res' on ma knee — 
You 'member de tam we chase de moose back 

on de Lac Souris 
An' de snow come down an' we los' ourse'f 

till mornin' is bring de light, 
You t'ink we got place to sleep, mon chien, 

lak de place we got here to-night 
23 



^4 My Leetle Cabane 

Onder de roof of de leetle cabane, w'ere fire 

she 's blazin' high 
An' bed I mak' of de spruce tree branch, is lie 

on de floor close by, 
O! I lak de smell of dat nice fresh bed, an' I 

dream of de summer tam 
An' de spot w'ere de beeg trout jomp so 

moche down bv de lumber dam. 



liut lissen dat win', how she scream outside, 

mak me t'ink of de loup garou, 
W'y to-night, mon chien, I be feelin' glad if 

even de carcajou 
Don't ketch hese'f on de trap I set to-day on 

de Lac Souris 
Let heeni wait till to-morrow, an' den if he 

lak, I geev heem good chance, sapree ! 



I see beeg cloud w'en I 'm out to-day, off on 

de nor'-eas* sky. 
An' she block de road, so de cloud behin', 

don't get a chance passin' by. 
An' I t'ink of boom on de grande riviere, w'en 

log 's fillin' up de bay. 
Wall ! sam' as de boom on de spring-tam 

flood, dat cloud she was sweep away. 



My Lcctlc Cabane 25 

Dem log 's very nice an' quiet, so long as de 

boom 's all right, 
But soon as de boom geev way, I'enfant! it 's 

den is begin de fight. 
Dey run dc rapide, an' jomp de rock, dey leap 

on de air an' dive, 
Can hear dem roar from de reever shore, jus' 

lak dey was all alive. 



An' dat was de way wit' de cloud to-day, de 

res' of dem push aside, 
For dey 're comiri' fas' from de cole nor'-eas' 

an' away t'roo de sky dey ride 
Shakin' de snow as along dey go, lak grain 

from de farmer's han' 
Till to-morrow you can't see not'ing at all, but 

smoke of de leetle cabane. 



I 'm glad we don't got no chimley, only hole 

on de roof up dere. 
An' spark fly off on w'ole of de worl', so dere 's 

no use gettin' scare, 
Mus' get more log! an' it 's lucky too, de wood 

pile is stannin' near 
So blow away storm, for harder you go, de 

warmer she 's comin' here— 



26 My Leetle Cabane 

I wonder how dey get on, mon chien, off on de 

great bceg town, 
Were house is so high, near touch de sky, 

mus' be danger of falHn' down. 
An' worser too on de night hik dis, ketchin' 

dat terrible win', 
O ! leetle small place lak de ole cabane was de 

right place for stayin' in. 



I s'pose dey got plaintee bodder too, dem 

feller dat 's be riche man, 
For dey 're never knowin' w'en t'ief may come 

an' steal all de t'ing he can 
An' de monee was kip dem busy too, watchin' 

it night an' day, 
Dunno but we 're better off here, mon chien, 

wit' beeg city far away. 



For I look on de corner over dere, an' see it 

ma birch canoe, 
I look on de wall w'ere ma rifle hang along wit' 

de good snowshoe. 
An' ev'ry t'ing else on de worl' I got, safe on 

dis place near me. 
An' here you are too, ma brave ole dog, wit' 

your nose up agen ma knee. 



My Leetle Cabane 27 

An' here we be stay t'roo de summer day, 

w'en ev'ry t'ing 's warm an' bright 
On winter too w'en de stormy win' blow lak 

she blow to-night 
Let dem stay on de city, on great beeg house, 

dem feller dat 's be riche man 
For we're happy an' satisfy here, mon chien, 

on our own leetle small cabane. 




Batee^e the '*^^: Lucl^Mon 



HE 'S alway ketchin' dore, an' he 's alway 
ketchin' trout 
On de place w'ere no wan else can ketch at all 
He 's alway ketchin' barbotte, dat 's w'at you 
call bull-pout, 
An' he never miss de wil' duck on de fall. 

O! de pa'tridge do some skippin' w'en she see 
heem on de swamp 
For she know Bateese don't go for not'ing 
dere, 
An' de rabbit if he 's comin', wall! you ought 
to see heem jomp. 
W'y he want to climb de tree he feel so 
scare. 



Affer two hour by de reever I hear hees leetle 
song 
Den I meet heem all hees pocket full of snipe, 
28 



Bateese, the Lucky Man 29 

An' me, I go de sam' place, an' I trainp de 
w'ole day long 
An' I 'm only shootin' two or t'ree, Ba Cripe ! 



I start about de sun-rise, an' I put out ma 
decoy, 
An' I see Bateese he sneak along de shore, 
An' before it 's comin' breakfas', he 's holler 
on hees boy 
For carry home two dozen duck or more. 



An' I 'm freezin' on de blin' — me — from four 
o'clock to nine 
An' ev'ry duck she 's passin' up so high. 
Dere 's blue-bill an' butter-ball, an' red-head, 
de fines' kin 
An' I might as well go shootin' on de sky. 



Don't see de noder feller lak Bateese was lucky 
man. 
He can ketch de smartes' feesh is never 
sweem. 
An' de bird he seldom miss dem, let dem try 
de hard dey can 
W'y de eagle on de mountain can't fly 
away from heem. 



30 Bateese, the Lucky Man 

But all de bird, an' feesh too, is geev' up feelin' 
scare, 
An' de rabbit he can stay at home in bed, 
For he feesh an' shoot no longer, ole Jean 
Bateese Belair, 
'Cos he 's dead. 







The Hill of St. Sebastien 



OUGHT to feci more satisfy an' happy dan 



JOUC 



be, 



For better husban' dan ma own, it 's very 
hard to fin' 
An' plaintee woman if dey got such boy an' 
girl as me 
Would never have no troub' at all, an' 
not'ing on deir min' 
But w'ile dey 're alway wit' mc, an' dough I 
love dem all 
I can't help t'ink'in' w'en I watch de chil'ren 
out at play 
Of tarn I 'm jus' lak dat mcsc'f, an' den de 
tear will fall 
For de hill of St. Sebastien is very far away! 

It seem so pleasan' w'en I come off here ten 
year ago 
An' hardes' work I 'm gettin' den, was never 
heavy load, 

31 



32 The Hill of St. Sebastien 

De roughes' place is smoot' enough, de 
quickes' gait is slow 
For glad I am to foUer w'ere Louis lead de 
road 
But somet'ing 's comin' over me, I feel it 
more an' more 
It 's alway pullin' on de heart, an' stronger 
ev'ry day. 
An' O ! I long to see again de reever an' de 
shore 
W'ere de hill of St. Sebastien is lookin' on 
de bay ! 

I use to t'ink it 's fine t'ing once, to stan' upon 
de door 
An' see de great beeg medder dere, stretchin' 
far an' wide, 
An' smell de pleasan' flower dat grow lak star 
on de prairie floor. 
An' watch de spotted antelope was feedin' 
ev'ry side. 
How did we gain it, man an' wife, dis Ian' was 
no man's Ian' ? 
By rifle, an' harrow an' plow, shovel an' 
spade an' hoe 
De blessin' of good God up above, an' work of 
our own strong han' 
Till it stan' on de middle, our leetle nes', 
w'ere de wheat an' cornfiel' grow. 



The Hill of St. Sebastien 33 

An' soon de chil'ren fill de house, wit' musique 
all day long. 
De sam' ma moder use to sing on de cradle 
over me, 
I 'm almos' sorry it 's be ma fault dey learn 
dem ole tam song 
Wat good is it tak' me off lak dat back on 
ma own contree ? 
Till de reever once more I see again, an' lissen 
it's current flow 
An' dere 's Hercule de ferry man comin' 
across de bay ! 
Wat 's use of foolin' me lak dat ? for surely I 
mus' know 
De hill of St. Sebastien is very far away ! 



Wen Louis ketch me dat summer night 
watchin' de sky above, 
Seein' de mountain an' dc lake, wit' small 
boat sailin' roun' 
He kiss me an' say — " Toinette, I 'm glad dis 
prairie Ian' you love 
For travel de far you can, ma belle, it 's 
fines' on top de groun' ! " 
Jus' w'en I 'm lookin' dat beeg cloud too, 
standin' dere lak a wall! 
Sam' as de hill I know so well, home on ma 
own contree, 



34 The Hill of St. Sebastien 

Good job I was cryin' quiet den, an' Louis 
can't hear at all 
But I kiss de poor feller an' laugh, an' never 
say not'ing — me. 

Wat can you do wit' man lak dat, an' w'y am 
I bodder so ? 
De firse t'ing he might fin' it out, den hees 
heart will feel it sore 
An* if he say " Come home Toinette," I 'm 
sure I mus' answer " No," 
For if I 'm seein' dat place again, I never 
return no more! 
So let de heart break — I don't care, I won't 
say not'ing — me — 
I '11 mak' dat promise on mcse'f, an' kip it 
night an' day 
But O! Mon Dieu ! how glad, how glad, an' 
happy I could be 
If de hill of St. Sebastien was not so far 
away ! 




MARIE LOUI5E. 

DIS was de story of boy an' girl 
Dat 's love each oder above de worl' 
But it 's not easy job for mak' Tamour 
Wen de girl she 's riche an' de boy he 's poor 
All de sam' he don't worry an' she don't cry, 
But wait for good chances come bimeby. 

Young Marie Louise flurtubuise 
Was leev wit' her moder la veuve Denise 
On fines' house on de w'ole chemin 
From Caribou reever to St. Germain 
For ole woman 's boss on de grande moulin. 
35 



36 Marie Louise 

Were dere 's nice beeg dam, water all de tarn 
An' season t'roo runnin' jus' de sam' 
Wit' good leetle creek comin' off de hill 
Was helpin' de reever for work de mill 
So de grande moulin she is never still. 

No wonder Denise she was hard to please 
W'en de boy come sparkin' Marie Louise 
For affer de foreman Bazile is pay 
De mill she 's bringin' t'ree dollar a day 
An' for makin' de monee, dat 's easy way. 

An' de girl Marie, O! she 's tres jolie, 
Jompin' aroun lak de summer bee 
She 's never short plaintee t'ing to do 
An' mebbe she ketch leetle honey too, 
'Cos she 's jus' as sweet as de morning dew. 

An' we'n she was dress on her Sunday bes' 
An' walk wit' her moder on seconde messe 
Dere 's not'ing is bring de }'Oung man so fas' 
An' dey stan' on door of church en masse 
So res' of de peop' dey can hardly pass. 

An' she know musique, 'cos on Chris'mas week 
W'en organ man on de church is sick 
(S'pose he got de grippe) dat girl she play 
Lak college professor, de pries' is say 
Till de place it was crowd nearly ev'ry day. 



Marie Louise 37 

Ole Cure Belair of St. Pollinaire, 
Dat 's parish ten mile noder side riviere, 
If he 's not gettin' mad, it was funny t'ing 
Wen hees young man fly lak bird on de wing 
Wit' nobody lef behin' to sing. 

An' nex' t'ing dey know it 's comin' so 
Dat mos' of de girl she got no beau. 
An' of course dat 's makin' de jealousie 
For w'en de young feller he see Marie 
He see not'ing else on hees eye, sapree! 

Mas' be somet'ing done sure as de gun, 
It 's all very well for de boy have fun 
But dere 's noder t'ing too, must n't be forget 
Dere 's two fine parish dat 's all upset 
An' mebbe de troub' is n't over yet. 

So ev'ry wan say de only way 
Is gettin' young Marie Louise mariee. 
Den dey have beeg meetin' on magasin, 
Were he sit on de chair Aleck Sanschagrin, 
An' dey 'point heem for go on de grande 
moulin. 



But w'en Aleck come dere for arrange affaire, 
Ole Madame Denise she was mak' heem scare 



J 



8 Marie Louise 



For jus' on de minute she see hees face 
She know right away all about de case 
An' she tole Bazile t'row heem off de place. 

Now de young Bazile he was t'ink good deal 
Of Marie Louise an' he 's ready for keel 
Any feller come foolin' aroun' de door 
So he kick dat man till he 's feelin' sore, 
An' Aleck he never go back no more. 

If it 's true w'at dey say, Joe Boulanger 
Was crazy to fight Irish man wan day 
Wen he steal all de pork on hecs dinner can, 
Den it is n't so very hard onderstan' 
Bazile Latour mus' be darn smart man. 

For nobody know de poor feller Joe 
Wen he 's come from de grande moulin below 
*Cept hees moder, dat 's tole heem mak' prom- 
ise sure 
Kip off on de mill, an' Bazile Latour, 
(But it 's long before doctor can mak' heem 
cure). 

Den de ole Denise she was very please, 
An' nex' day spik wit' Marie Louise, 
" Ma girl, I got de right man for you 
If you can only jus' love heem true, 
Bazile dat young feller, I t'ink he '11 do." 



Marie Louise 39 

Wall! Moder he 's poor, Bazile Latour, 
But if you t'ink you will lak heem sure 
I '11 try an' feex it mese'f some day 
For you 've been de good moder wit' me 

alway " 
An' dat 's w'at Marie Louise she say. 

So it 's comin' right affer all de fight, 
An' de parish don't see de more finer sight 
Dan w'en dey get marry on St. Germain 
W'y de buggy she 's pilin' dc w'ole chemin 
All de way from de church to de grande moulin. 




The Old House and the New 

Is it only twelve mont' I play de fool, 
You 're sure it 's correc', ma dear ? 
I 'm glad for hearin' you spik dat way 

For I t'ink it was twenty year, 
Since leffin' de leetle ole house below, 

I mak' wit' ma own two ban' 
For go on dat fine beeg place, up dere — 
Mon Dieu ! I 'm de crazy man! 



You 'member we 're not very riche, cherie, 

Dat tam we 're beginnin' life! 
Mese'f I 'm twenty, an' you eighteen 

Wen I 'm bringin' you home ma wife, 
40 



The Old House and the New 41 

Many de worry an' troub' we got 

An' some of dem was n't small, 
But not very long dey bodder us 

For we work an' forget dem all. 



An' you was de savin' woman too, 

Dere 's nobody beat you dere ! 
An' I laugh w'en I t'ink of de tam you go 

Over on Trois Rivieres 
For pay in' de bank — you know how moche 

We 're owin' for dat new place 
Wat was he sayin' de nice young man 

Smilin' upon hees face 



W'en he got dat monee was all pure gole 

Come down on your familee 
For honder year an' mebbe more ? 
Ma-dame you 're excusin' me, 
But w'ere was you gettin' dis nice gole coin 

Of Louis Ouatorze, hees tam 
Wit' hees face on back of dem ev'ry wan ? 

For dey 're purty scase now, Ma-dam ? " 



An' you say " Dat 's not'ing at all M'sieu' 

Ma familee get dem t'ing, 
I suppose it 's very long tam ago, 

W'en Louis Quatorze is King, 



42 The Old House and the New 

An' 1 'in sorry \){)o\- feller he 's coiiiiii' tlcad 

An' not Iccvin' here to-day 
'Cos man shoulcl he j^ood on hees frien', M'sieu' 

Wen de nionec he niak' dat way." 



Vass, ev'ty wan know wc 're workin' hard 

An' savin' too all dcm year, 
l)ut nobotly see us starve ourse'f 

1 )ere 's plaintce to cat, don't fear — 
liinieby t)iir chil'rcn dcy 're growin' up 

So we 're doiii' de bes' we can 
vSiitle deni off on de firse good chance 

An' ueevin' deni leetle Ian'. 



An' i\cn de troub' is bci^in to show 

Wen our dau<;hter poor Caroline 
She marry dat lawyer on Trois Rivieres 

De beetles' fool never seen ! 
Alway come home ev'ry summer sure 

Hringin' her familee, 
All right for de chil'ren, I don't min' dem ; 

Hut de husban' ! sapree maudit ! 

1 w ish I was close ma ear right off 
Wen he talk of our leetle house 

Dough 1 know wen familee's comin' home 
Dere is n't nioche roon) for a mouse, 



The Old House and tlic New 4: 

He say " Richc man lak you.sc'f can't locv' 

On shaintcc lak dis Ijclcivv, 
Wen t'onsan' dollar will buil' fin' place 

Up on de hill en haut." 



An' he talk about gallene all aroun' 

Were we sit on de summer nitjjht 
Watchin' de star on de sky above 

Wile de moon she was shinin' brij^ht, 
Could plant some ai)i)le-trce dere, also, 

An' flower, an' I dunno w'at. 
An' w'en de sun he 's be^in to rise 

Look at de view we L^ot ! 



Den he bring 'noder feller from Trois Rivieres 

An' show w'at he call de plan 
For makin' dem house on de w'ole contrec — 

Mon Dieu ! how I hate dat man! 
'Cos he 's talkin' away nearly all de tarn 

Lak trotter ui)on de race — 
Wall! affer a w'ile we mak' our min' 

For havin' dat nice new place. 

So dey go ahead, an' we let tlem go. 

But stuff dey was t'row away; 
I 'm watchin' for dat, an' I save mcsc'f 

Mebbe twenty-five cent a day, 



44 The Old House and the New 

For you 're surely clieat if you don't tak' care 

Very offen we fin' dat 's true, 
An' affer de house she was finish up, 

We 're geevin' it nam' Bellevue. 

O! yass, I know we enjoy ourse'f 

Wen our frien' dey was comin' roun' 
An' say " Dat 's very fine place you got; 

Dere 's not'ing upon de town, 
Or anyw'ere else for honder mile 

Dis house Bellevue can touch, 
An' den let de horse eat de garden fence 

Non ! we don't enjoy dat so moche. 



An' of course we can't say not'ing at all 

For it 's not correc' t'ing you know — 
But " Never min' dat, an' please come again, 

I 'm sorry you got to go." 
Bapteme! w'en I 'm seein' beeg feller bus' 

Our two dollar easy chair — 
Can't help it at all, I got to go 

Down on de cellar an' swear! 



An' w'ere did we leev' on dat belle maison ? 

Wan room an' de kitchen, dat 's all 
An' plaintee too for de man an' wife! 

An' you 'member de tam I fall 



The Old House and the New 45 

Off on de gallerie wan dark ni<Tht, 

I los' mese'f tryin' fin' 
De winder dere on de grande parloir, 

For closin' it up de blin' ? 



An' all de tarn de poor leetle house 

Is down on de road below, 
I t'ink she was jealous dat fine new place 

Up on de hill en haut, 
For O! she look lonesome by herse'f 

De winder all broke an' gone — 
No smoke on de chimley comin' out 

No frien' stannin' dere — not wan. 



You 'member too.w'en de fever come 

An' ketch us wan winter day ? 
Wat he call de shaintee, our son-in-law, 

Dat 's w'ere dey pass away 
Xavier, Zoe, an' Euchariste 

Our chil'ren wan, two, t'ree — 
I offen t'ink of de room dey die, 

An' I can't help cryin' — me. 

So we '11 go on de ole house once again, 
Long enough we been fool lak dis 

Never min' w'at dey say bimeby, ma chere 
But geev me de leetle kiss, 



46 The Old House and the New 

Let dem stay on dat fine new place up dere 

Our daughter an' son-in-law 
For to-morrow soon as de sun will rise 

We 're eoin' back home — Hooraw! 











THE CANADIAN COUNTRY DOCTOR. 



IS'POSE mos' ev'ry body t'ink hces job 's 
about de hardes' 
From de boss man on de Gouvernement to 
poor man on de town 
From de cur6 to de lawyer, an' de farmer to 
de school boy 
An' all de noder feller was mak' de worl' 
ro roun'. 



l^ut dere 's wan man got hees han' full t'roo 
ev'ry kin' of wedder 
An' he 's never sure of not'ing but work 
an' work away — 
Dat 's de man dey call de doctor, w'en you 
ketch hcem on de contree 
An' he 's only man I know-me, don't got 
no holiday. 

47 



48 The Country Doctor 

If you 're comin' off de city spen' de summer- 
tam among us 
An' you walk out on de morning w'en de 
leetle bird is sing 
Mebbe den you see de doctor w'en he 's passin 
wit' hees buggy 
An' you t'ink " Wall! contree doctor mus' 
be very pleasan' t'ing 



" Drivin' dat way all de summer up an' down 
along de reever 
Were de nice cool win' is blowin' among de 
maple tree 
Den w'en he 's mak' hees visit, comin' home 
before de night tam 
For pass de quiet evening wit' hees wife an' 
familee." 



An' w'en off across de mountain, some wan 's 
sick an' want de doctor 
" Mus' be fine trip crossin' over for watch 
de sun go down 
Makin' all dem purty color lak w'at you call 
de rainbow," 
Dat 's way de peop' is talkin' was lecvin' on 
de town. 



The Country Doctor 49 

But it is n't alvvay summer on de contrcc, an' 
de doctor 
He could tole you many story of de storm 
dat he 's been in 
How hees coonskin coat come handy, w'en de 
win' blow off de reever 
For if she 's sam' ole reever, she 's not 
alway sam' old win'. 



An' de mountain dat 's so quiet w'en de w'ite 
cloud go a-sailin' 
All about her on de summer w'ere de sheep 
is feedin' high 
You should see her on December w'en de snow 
is pilin' roun' her 
An' all de win' of winter come tearin' t'roo 
de sky. 



O! le bon Dieu help de doctor w'en de mes- 
sage come to call heem 
From hees warm bed on de night-tam for 
visit some poor man 
Lyin' sick across de hill side on noder side de 
reever 
An' he hear de mountain roarin' lak de beeg 
Shawinigan. 



50 The Country Doctor 

Ah! well he know de warning but he can't 
stay till de morning 
So he 's hitchin' up hees leetle horse an' put 
heem on burleau 
Den w'en he 's feex de buffalo, an' wissle to 
hees pony 
Away t'roo storm an' hurricane de contree 
doctor go. 



O! de small Canadian pony! dat 's de horse 
can walk de snowdreef. 
Dat 's de horse can fin' de road too he 's 
never been before 
Kip your heart up leetle feller, for dere 's 
many mile before you 
An' it 's purty hard job tellin' w'en you see 
your stable door. 



Yass! de doctor he can tole you, if he have de 
tam for talkin' 
All about de bird was singin' before de sum- 
mer lef 
For he 's got dem on hees bureau an' he 's doin' 
it hese'f too 
An* de las' tam I was dere, me, I see dem all 
mese'f. 



The Country Doctor 51 

But about de way he travel t'roo de stormy 
night of winter 
Wen de rain come on de spring flood, an' 
dc bridge is wash away 
All de hard work, all de danger dat was offen 
hang aroun' heem 
Dat 's de tarn our contree doctor don't have 
very moche to say. 



For it 's party ole, ole story, an' he alway have 
it wit' heem 
Ever since he come among us on parish Saint 
Mathieu 
An' no doubt he 's feelin' mebbe jus' de 
sam' as noder feller 
So he rader do hees talkin' about somet'ing 
dat was new. 



Mon Frere Camille 



M 



ON frere Camille he was firse class blood 
Wen he come off de State las' fall, 
Wearin* hees boot a la mode box toe 
An* diamon' pin on hees shirt also 
Sam' as dem feller on Chi-caw-go; 
But now he 's no blood at all, 

Camille, mon frere. 



Wat 's makin' dat change on mon frere 
Camille ? 
Wall! lissen for minute or two. 
An' I '11 tr)' feex it up on de leetle song 
Dat 's geevin' some chance kin' o' help it 

along 
So wcdder I 'm right or wedder I 'm wrong 
You '11 know all about heeni w'en I get 
t'roo, 

Mon frere Camille. 
52 



Mon Frcre Camille 53 

He never sen' letter for t'orteen year 
So of course he mus' be all right 

Till telegraph 's comin' from Kan-Ka-Kee 
I 'm leffin' dis place on de half pas' t'ree 

Wat you want to bring is de bes' buggee 
An' double team sure for me t'orsday night 

Ton frere Camille." 



I wish you be dcre w'en Camille arrive 

I bet you will say " Wat 's dat ? " 
For he 's got lectle cap very lak tuque bleu 
Ole habitant 's wearin' in bed, dat 's true, 
An' w'at do you t'ink he carry too ? 

Geev it up ? Wall ! small valise wit' de fine 
plug hat. 

Mon frcre Camille. 

Very strange." I know you will say right off. 
For dere 's not'ing wrong wit' hees clothes. 
An' he put on style all de bes' he can 
Wit' diamon' shinin' across hees han' 
An' de way he 's talkin' lak Yankee man 
Mus' be purty hard on hees nose, 

Mon frerc Camille. 



But he 'splain all dat about funny cap. 
An' tole us de reason w'y. 



54 Mon Frere Camille 

It seem no feller can travel far, 
An' specially too on de Pullman car, 
'Less dey wear leetle cap only cos' doUarre, 
Dat 's true if he never die, 

Mon frere Camille. 

Don't look very strong dem fancy boot 

But he 's 'splain all dat also 
He say paten' Icdder she 's nice an' gay 
You don't need to polish dem ev'ry day, 
Besides he 's too busy for dat alway, 

Wen he 's leevin' on Chi-caw-go, 

Mon frere Camille. 

But de State she was n't de only place 

He visit all up an' down. 
For he 's goin' Cu-baw an' de Mex-i-co, 
Were he 's kilHn' two honder dem wil' taureau, 
Wat you call de bull: on de circus show, 

O! if you believe heem he travel roun'. 

Mon frere Camille. 

So of course w'en ma broder was gettin' home 

All the peop' on de parish come 
Every night on de parlor for hear heem tell 
How he foller de brave Generale Roosvel' 
Wen rough rider feller dey fight lak hell 
An' he walk on de front wit' great beeg 
drum, 

Mon frere Camille. 



Mon Frere Camille 55 

An' how is he gainin' dat diamon' ring ? 

Way off on de Mex-i-co 
Were he 's pilin' de bull wan summer day 
Till it 's not easy haulin' dem all away, 
An' de lady dey 're t'rowin' heem large 
bouquet 
For dey lak de style he was keel taureau, 

Mon frere Camille. 

Wall ! he talk dat way all de winter t'roo, 

An' hecs frien' dey was tryin' fin' 
Some bull on de county dat 's wil' enough 
For mon frere Camille, but it 's purty tough 
'Cos de farmer 's not raisin' such fightin' stuff 
An' he don't want not'ing but mos' worse 
kin' 

Mon frere Camille. 

Dat 's not pleasan' t'ing mebbe los' hees trade, 

If we don't hurry up, for sure, 
I s'pose you t'ink I was goin' it strong ? 
Never min', somct'ing happen 'fore very long 
It '11 all come out on dis leetle song 

W'en he pass on de house of Ma-dame 
Latour 

Camille, mon frere. 

We 're makin' pique-nique on Denise Latour 
For helpin' put in de hay 



56 Mon Frere Camille 

Too bad she 's de moder large familee 
An' los' de bes' husban' she never see 
Wen he drown on de reever, poor Jeremie, 
So he come wit' de res' of de gang dat day, 

Camille, mon frere. 

An' affer de hay it was put away 

Don't tak' very long at all, 
De boy an' de girl she was lookin' 'roun' 
For havin' more fun 'fore dey lef de groun' 
An' dey see leetle bull, mebbe t'ree bonder 
poun' 
An' ncx' t'ing I hear dem call 

Mon frere Camille. 

So nice leetle feller I never see 

Dat bull of Ma-dame Latour 
Wit' curly hair on de front hees head 
An' quiet ? jus' sam' he was almos' dead 
An' fat ? wall! de chil'ren dey see heem fed 

So he 's not goin' keel heem I 'm very sure, 

Mon frere Camille. 

But de girl kip teasin' an' ole Ma-dame 

She say, " You can go ahead 
He cos' me four dollarre six mont' ago 
So if anyt'ing happen ma small taureau, 
Who 's pay me dat monee I lak to know ? " 
An' he answer, " Dat 's me w'en I keel 
heem dead" 

Mon frere Camille. 



Mon Frcre Camille 57 

Den he feex beeg knife on de twelve foot pole, 

So de chil'ren commence to cry 
An' he jomp on de fence, an' yell, " Hooraw " 
An' shout on de leetle French bull, " Dis done! 
Ain't you scare w'en you see feller from Cu- 
bavv ? " 
An' he show heem hees red necktie, 

Mon frere Camille. 

L' petit taureau w'en he see dat tie 

He holler for half a mile 
Den he jomp on de leg an' he raise de row 
Ba Golly ! I 'm sure I can see heem now. 
An' dey run w'en dey hear heem, de noder 
cow 
Den he say, " Dat bull must be surely wil' " 

Mon frere Camille. 

But de bull don't care w'at he say at all. 

For he 's watchin' dat red necktie 
An' w'en ma broder he push de pole 
Fm sure it's makin' some purty large hole. 
If de bull be dere, but ma blood run col' 
For de nex' t'ing I hear heem cry, 

Camille, mon frere. 

No wonder he cry, for dat sapree bull 
He 's yell leetle bit some more, 



58 Mon Frere Camille 

Den he ketch ma broder dat small taureau 
Only cos' four dollarre six mont' ago 
An' he 's t'rowin' heem up from de groun' 
below 
Wan tam, two tarn, till he 's feelin' sore, 

Camille, mon frere. 

An' w'en ma broder 's come down agen 

I s'pose he mus' change hees min' 
An' mebbe t'ink if it 's all de sam' 
He '11 keel dat bull w'en he get more tam 
For dere he was runnin' wit' ole Ma-dame 
De chil'ren, de bull, an' de cow behin' 

Camille, mon frere. 

So dat 's de reason he 's firse class blood 
W'en he come off de State las' fall 

Wearin' hees boot a la mode box toe 

An' diamon' pin on hees shirt also 

Sam' as dem feller on Chi-caw-go 
But now he 's no blood at all, 

Camille, mon frere. 




The Habitant's Summer 

OWHO can blame de winter, never min' 
, de hard he 's blowin' 
'Cos w'en de tarn is comin' for passin' on 
hees roun' 
De firse t'ing he was doin' is start de sky a 
snowin' 
An' mak' de nice w'ite bhmket, for cover up 
de eroun'. 



An' de groun' she go a'sleepin' t'roo all de 
stormy season, 
Restin' from her work las' summer, till she 's 
waken by de rain 
Dat le bon Dieu sen' some morning, an' of 
course dat 's be de reason 
Ev'ry year de groun' she 's lookin' jus' as 
fresh an' young again. 
59 



6o The Habitant's Summer 

Den you geev her leetle sunshine, w'en de snow 
go off an' leave her 
Let de sout' win' blow upon her, an' you see 
beeg changes now 
Wit' de steam arisin' from her jus' de sam' she 
got de fever, 
An' not many day is passin' w'en she 's 
ready for de plow. 

We don't bodder wit' no spring-tarn w'ere de 
rain she 's alway fallin,' 
Two, t'ree mont', or mebbe longer, on de 
place beyon' de sea, 
W'ere some bird he 's nam' de cuckoo, spen' 
de mos' hees tam a-callin' 
l^ut for fear he wet hees fedder, hide away 
upon de tree. 

On de swamp beside de reever, mebbe jus' 
about de fly-tam 
W'ere it 's very hard to see heem, we hear 
de wo-wa-raw, 
Dat 's w'at you call de bull-frog, singin' 
*' more rum," all de night-tam. 
He 's only kin' of cuckoo we got on Cana- 
daw. 

No, we have n't got dat feller, but we got some 
bird can beat heem, 
An' we hear dem, an' we see dem, jus' so 
soon de winter go, 



The Habitant's Summer 6i 

So never min' de cuckoo for we 're not afraid 
to meet heem, 
W'enever he was ready, wit' our own petits 
oiseaux. 

An' dey almos' come togeder, lak de spring 
an' summer wedder, 
Blue-bird wan day, pie-blanche nex' day, 
geevin' out deir leetle note, 
Affer dat we see de robin, an' de gouglou on 
de medder. 
Den le roi, de red bird 's comin', dressim on 
hees sojer coat. 

Wen de grosbec on de pine tree, wak' you 
early wit' hees singin', 
Wen you lissen to de pa'tridge a-beatin' on 
hees drum, 
Wen de w'ole place rouii' about you wit' 
musique is a-ringin'. 
Den you know de winter 's over, an' de 
summer day is come. 

See de apple blossom showin', see de clover 
how it 's growin' 
Watch de trout, an' way dey 're playin' on 
de reever down below. 
Ah! de cunning leetle feller, easy see how well 
dey 're knowin' 
We 're too busy now for ketch dem an' dat 's 
w'y dey 're jompin' so. 



62 The Habitant's Summer 

For de mos' fine summer season don't las' too 
long, an' we know it, 
So we 're workin' ev'rybody, w'ilc de sun is 
warm an' clear, 
Dat 's de tam for plant de barley, an' de injun 
corn we sow it, 
Wen de leaf upon de maple 's jus' de size 
of squirrel's ear. 

'Noder job is feexin' fences, if we don't be lak 
de las' year, 
Wen de Durham bull he 's pullin' nearly all 
de fence away. 
An' dat sapree champion taureau let de cattle 
out de pasture 
So dey 're playin' on de devil wit' de oat 
an' wit' de hay. 

Yass, de farmer 's offen worry, an' it some- 
tam mak' heem snappy, 
For no sooner wan job 's finish, dan he got 
two t'ousan' more. 
But he 's glad for see de summer, w'en all de 
worl' she 's happy. 
An' ev'ryt'ing aroun' heem was leevin' out 
o' door. 

Now de ole sheep 's takin' young wan up de 
hillside, an' dey feed dem 
Were de nice short grass is growin' sweeter 
dan it grow below, 



The Habitant's Summer 63 

Ev'ry morning off dey 're goin' an' it 's 
pleasan' t'ing to see dem 
Lookin' jus' lak leetle snow-ball all along de 
green coteau. 

Dere 's de hen too, wit' her chicken, O how 
moche dey mak' her boddor 
Watchin' dem mos' ev'ry minute, fcarin' dey 
was go astray 
But w'en mountain hawk he 's comin' den 
how quick dey fin' de nioder 
An' get onderneat' her fedder till de dan- 
ger 's pass away. 

An' jus' see de turkey gobbler, an' lissen to 
heem talkin' 
No wonder he 's half crazee, an' spikin' out 
so loud, 
W'en you meet hccm on de roadside wit' hees 
wife an' chil'ren walkin'. 
It 's kipin' heem so busy lookin' affer such 
a crowd. 

Dat 's about de way we 're leevin', dat 's a 
few t'ing we 're seein', 
W'en de nice warm summer sun is shinin' 
down on Canadaw, 
An* no matter w'at I 'm hearin', still I never 
feel lak bcin' 
No Oder stranger feller, me, but only habi- 
tant. 



64 The Habitant's Summer 

For derc 's no place lak our own place, don't 
care de far you 're goin' 
Dat 's w'at de whole worl's sayin', w'enever 
dey come here, 
'Cos we got de fines' contree, an' de beeges' 
reever flowin' 
An' le bon Dieu sen' de sunshine nearly 
twelve mont' ev'ry year. 




J-^.^.r 




Little Lac Grenier. 

(c;ren-vav) 

LEETLE Lac Grenier, she 's all alone, 
Right on de mountain top, 
But cloud sweepin' by, will fin' tarn to stop 
No matter how quickly he want to go, 
So he '11 kiss leetle Grenier down below. 

Leetle Lac Grenier, she 's all alone. 
Up on de mountain high 
But she never feel lonesome, 'cos for w'y ? 
So soon as de winter was gone away 
De bird come an' sing to her cv'ry day, 
65 



66 Little \a\c (Ircnicr 

Lccllc L.'ic (Irciiicr, she 's all alone, 

liack on tic mouDtain tlcrc, 

Hut (Ic pine tree an' spruce stan' cv'rywherc 

Aloni; by ile shore, an' niak' hei warm 

I"'or (ley kip oil" de win" an' de wintei- storm! 

Lcctlc Lac Grenicr, she 's all alone, 

No broclcr, no sister near, 

lUit de swallow will lly, an' de l)eeg moose 

deer 
An' caribou too, will i^o lonij^ way 
To driidc de sweet water of Lac (irenier. 

Leetio Lac Grcnier, I see \'ou now, 

Onder de roof of spring- 

M.i canoe 's afloat, an' de robin sini^, 

1 )e HI)' 's bei;"innin' her summer dress, 

An' trout 's wakin' up frc^ii hees loiiij^ long res'. 

Leetle Lac Grenier, 1 'm happ)- now, 
Out on de ole canoe, 
Vov I 'ni all alone, ma chcre, wit' you, 
An' if only a nice light rod I had 
I 'd try dat fish near de lily pad! 

Leetle Lac Grenier, 0\ let me go, 
Don't spik no more, 

For your voice is strong lak de r.ipid's roar, 
An' you know youse'f I 'm too far away. 
For visit you now — leetle Lac Grcnier! 




;-V"' 



r^. Wa:U''^- 



Tl IE WIINUIGO 



Go easy wit' di; paddle, an' steady wit' de 
oar 
Geev rudder to dc bes' man you ^^ot anion^f 
dc crew, 
Let ev'ry wan l)e (piiet, don't let deni sinj^^ no 
more 
Wen you see de islan' risin' out of (Irande 
Lac Manitou. 

''7 



68 The Windigo 

Above us on de sk}' dcrc, de summer cloud 
may float 
Aroun' us on do water de ripple never show, 
But somet'ing down below us can rock de 
stronges' boat, 
Wen we 're comin' near de islan' of de 
spirit Windigo ! 

De carcajou may breed dere, an' otter sweem 
de pool 
De moosh-rat mak' de mud house, an' beaver 
buil' hees dam 
An' beeges' Injun hunter on all de Tete de 
Boule 
Will never set hees trap dere from spring 
to summer tarn. 

But he '11 bring de fines' presen' from upper 
St. Maurice 
De loup marin an' black-fox from off de 
Hodson Bay 
An' hide dem on de islan' an' smoke de pipe 
of peace 
So W^indigo will help heem w'en he travel 
far away. 

We shaintee on dat islan' on de winter seexty- 
nine 
If you look you see de clearin' aroun' de 
Coo Coo Cache, 



The Windigo 69 

An' pleasan' place enough too among de spruce 
an' pine 
If foreman on do shaintee is n't Cyprien 
Palache. 

Reeg feller, alway watchin' on hecs leetle 
weasel eye, 
De gang dey can't do not'ing but he see dem 
purty cjuick 
Wit' hees " Hi dere, w'at you doin'?" ev'ry 
tam he 's passin' by 
An' de bad word he was usin', wall! it offen 
mak' mo sick. 

An' he carry silver w'isslc wit' de chain aroun' 
hees neck 
For fear he mebbe los' it, an' ev'ry bod)' say 
He mus' buy it from de devil w'on ho 's 
passin' on Kobeck 
But if it 's true dat story, I dunno how 
moche he pay. 

Dere 's plaintee on de shaintee can sing lak 
rossignol 
Pat Clancy play de fiddle, an' Jimmie Char- 
bonneau 
Was bring hees concertina from below St. 
Fereol 
So we get some leetle pleasure till de long, 
long winter go. 



70 The Windigo 

But if we start up singin' affer supper on de 
camp 
** Par derriere chez ma tante," or " Mattawa 
wishtay," 
De boss he '11 come along den, an' put heem 
out de lamp, 
An' only stop hees swearin' w'en we all go 
marche coucher. 

We 've leetle boy dat winter from Po-po-lo-be- 
lang 
Hees fader an' hees moder dey 're bote 
A-ben-a-kee 
An' he 's comin', Injun Johnnie, wit' some 
man de lumber gang 
Was fin' heem nearly starvin' above on Lac 
Souris. 

De ole man an' de woman is tryin' pass de Soo 
W'en water 's high on spring tam, an' of 
course dey 're gettin' drown'. 
For even smartes' Injun should n't fool wit' 
• birch canoe, 
Were de reever lak toboggan on de hill is 
runnin' down. 

So dey lef de leetle feller all alone away up 
dere 
Till lumber gang is ketchin' him an' bring 
him on de Cache, 



The Windigo 71 

But better if he 's stayin' wit' cle wolf an' wit' 
de bear 
Dan come an' tak' hees chances wit' Cyprien 
Palache. 

I wonder how he stan' it, w'y he never run 
away 
For Cyprien lak neeger he is treat heem all 
de sam' 
An' if he 's wantin' Johnnie on de night or on 
de day 
God help heem if dat w'issle she was below 
de secon' tam ! 

De boy he don't say not'ing, no wan never see 
heem cry 
He 's got de Injun in heem, you can see it 
on de face, 
An' only for us feller an' de cook, he '11 surely 
die 
Long before de winter 's over, long before 
we lef de place, 

But I see heem hidin' somet'ing wan morning 
by de shore 
So firse tam I was passin' I scrape away de 
snow 
An' it 's rabbit skin he 's ketchin' on de swamp 
de day before, 
Leetle Injun Johnnie 's workin' on de spirit 
Windigo. 



72 The Windigo 

December 's come in stormy, an' de snow-dreef 
fill de road 
Can only see de chimley an' roof of our 
cabane, 
An' stronges' team on stable fin' it plaintee 
heavy load 
Haulin' sleigh an' two t'ree pine log t'roo 
de wood an' beeg savanc. 

An' I travel off wan day me, * wit' Cyprien 
Palache, 
Explorin' for new timber, w'en de win' be- 
gin to blow, 
So we hurry on do snow-shoe for de camp on 
Coo Coo Cache 
If de nor' eas' storm is comin', was de bes' 
place we dunno — 

An' we 're gettin' safe enough dere wit' de 
storm close on our heel. 
But w'en our belt we loosen for takin' off de 
coat 
De foreman commence scrcamin' an' mon Dieu 
it mak' us feel 
Lak he got t'ree t'ousan' devil all fightin' on 
hees t'roat. 

Cyprien is los' hees w'issle, Cyprien is los' hees 
chain 
Injun Johnnie he mus' fin' it, even if de win' 
is hi<jh 



The Windigo 73 

He can never show hcse'f on de Coo Coo 
Cache again 
Till he bring dat silver w'issle an' de chain 
it 's hangin' by. 

So he sen' heem on hecs journey never knowin' 
he come back 
T'roo de rough an' stormy wedder, t'roo de 
pile of dreefin' snow 
" Wat 's de use of bein' Injun if you can't 
smell out de track ? " 
Dat 's de way de boss is talkin', an' poor 
Johnnie have to go. 

If you want to hear de musique of de nort' win' 
as it blow 
An' lissen to de hurricane an' learn de way 
it sing 
An' feel how small de man is w'en he 's 
leevin' here below, 
You should try it on de shaintee w'en she 's 
doin' all dem t'ing! 

Wat 's dat soun' lak somet'ing cryin' all 
aroun' us ev'ryw'ere ? 
We never hear no tonder upon de winter 
siorm ! 
Dey 're shoutin' to each oder dem voices on 
de air, 
An' it 's red hot too de stove pipe, but no 
wan 's feelin' warm! 



74 The Windigo 

Get out an' go de woodpile before I freeze 

to deat' " 
Cyprien de boss is yellin' an' he 's lookin' 

cole an' w'ite 
Lak dead man on de cof^n, but no wan go, 

you bet, 
For if it 's near de woodpile, 't is n't close 

enough to-night ! 

Non ! we ain't afraid of not'ing, but we don't 
lak takin' chance. 

An' w'en we hear de spirit of de wil' A-ben- 

a-kee 
Singin' war song on de chimley, makin' all dem 

Injun dance 
Raisin' row dere, you don't ketch us on no 

woodpile — no siree! 

O! de lonesome night we 're passin' w'ile 
we 're stayin' on dat place! 
An* ev'rybody sheever w'en Jimmie Char- 
bonneau 
Say he 's watchin' on de winder an* he see de 
Injun face 
An' it 's lookin' so he tole us, jus' de sam' 
as Windigo. 

Den again mese'f I 'm hearin' somet'ing 
callin', an' it soun' 
Lak de voice of leetle Johnnie so I 'm 
passin' on de door 



The Windigo 75 

But de pine stump on de clearin' wit' de w'ite 
sheet all aroun' 
Mak' me t'ink of churchyar' tombstone, an' 
I can't go dere no more. 

Wat 's de reason we 're so quiet w'ile our 
heart she 's goin' fas' 
W'y is no wan ax de question? dat we 're 
all afraid to spik ? 
Was it wing of flyin' wil' bird strek de winder 
as it pass, 
Or de sweesh of leetle snow-ball w'en de win' 
is playin' trick ? 

W'en we bull' de Coo Coo shaintee, she 's as 
steady as a rock. 
Did you feel de shaintee shakin' de sam, 
she's goin' to fall ? 
Dere 's somet'ing on de doorway! an' now we 
hear de knock 
An' up above de hurricane we hear de w'issle 
call. 

Callin', callin' lak a bugle, an' he 's jompin' up 
de boss 
From hees warm bed on de corner an' open 
wide de door — 
Dere 's no use foller affer for Cyprien is los' 
An' de Coo Coo Cache an' shaintee he '11 
never see no more. 



76 The Windigo 

At las' de morning 's comin', an' storm is blow 
away 
An' outside on de shaintee young Jimmie 
Charbonneau 
He 's seein' track of snowshoe, 'bout de size of 
double sleigh 
Dere 's no mistak' it 's makin' by de spirit 
Windigo. 

An' de leetle Injun Johnnie, he 's all right I 
onderstan' 
For you '11 fin' heem up de reever above de 
Coo Coo Cache 
Ketchin' mink and ketchin' beaver, an' he 's 
growin' great beeg man 
But dat 's de las' we 're liearin' of Cyprien 
Palache. 







National Policy 

OUR fader lef ole France behin', dat 's 
many year ago, 
An' how we get along since den, wall! ev'ry 

body know. 
Few t'ousan' firse class familce was only come 

dat tarn, 
An' now we got pure Canayens; t'ree million 
peop' bedamme ! 



Dat 's purty smart beez-nesse, I t'ink we done 

on Canadaw, 
An' we don't mak' no grande hooraw, but do 

it tranquillement 
So if we 're braggin' now an' den, we mus' be 

excuzay, 
For no wan 's never see before de record bus' 

dat way. 

77 



78 National Policy 

An* w'y should we be feel ashamc, 'cos we 

have boy an' girl ? 
No matter who was come along, we '11 match 

agen de worl' ; 
Wit' plaintee boy lak w'at we got no danger 

be afraid, 
An' all de girl she look too nice for never come 
ole maid. 



If we have only small cor-nerre de sam' we 

have before 
Wen ole Champlain an' Jacques Cartier firse 

jomp upon de shore 
Dere 's no use hurry den at all, but now you 

understan' 
We got to whoop it up, ba gosh! for occupy 

de Ian' ! 



W'at 's use de million acre, w'at 's use de belle 

riviere, 
An' t'ing lak dat if we don't have somebody 

leevin' dere ? 
W'at 's mak' de worl' look out for us, an' kip 

de nation free 
Unless we 're raisin' all de tam some fine large 

familee ? 



National Policy 79 

Don't seem so long we buil' dat road, Chemin 

de Pacifique, 
Tak' bonder dollar pass on dere, an' nearly two 

t'ree week, 
Den look dat place it freeze so hard, on w'at 

you call Klon-dak, 
Wall! if we have to fill dem up, we got some 

laree contrac' ! 



Of course we 're not doin' bad jus' now; so 
ev'rybody say. 

But we dunno de half we got on Canadaw to- 
day. 

An' still she 's comin' beeger, an' never mak' 
no fuss, 

So if we don't look out, firse t'ing, she '11 get 
ahead of us. 



De more I t'ink, de more I 'm scare, de way 

she grow so fas', 
An' worse of all it 's hard to say how long de 

boom '11 las' 
But if she don't go slower an' ease up leetle 

bit, 
Bimeby de Canayens will be some dead bird on 

de pit. 



8o National Policy 

Den ev'ry body hip hooraw! an' sen' de 

familee 
Along de reever, t'roo de wood, an' on de 

grande prairie, 
Dat 's only way I 'm t'inkin' arrange de w'ole 

affaire 
An' mebbe affer w'ile dere won't be too moclie 

Ian' for spare. 






,--3F 



, ^1---^ 






IN dreams of the night I hear the call 
Of wild duck scudding across the lake, 
In dreams I see the old convent wall, 
Where Ottawa's waters surge and break. 



Rut Hercule awakes me ere the sun 

Has painted the eastern skies with gold. 

Hercule! true knight of the rod and gun 
As ever lived in the days of old. 



" Arise! tho' the moon hangs high above, 
The sun will soon usher in the day, 

And the southerly wind that sportsmen love 
Is blowing across St. Louis Bay." 
8i 



82 Autumn Days 

The wind is moaning among the trees, 
Along the shore where the shadows lie, 

And faintly borne on the fresh'ning breeze 
From yonder point comes the loon's wild cry 



Like diamonds flashing athwart the tide 
The dancing moonbeams quiver and glow, 

As out on the deep we swiftly glide 
To our distant Mecca, He Perrot. 



He Perrot far to the southward lies, 

Pointe Claire on the lee we leave behind, 

And eager we gaze with longing eyes. 
For faintest sign of the deadly " blind." 



Past the point where Ottawa's current flows — 
A league from St. Lawrence golden 
sands — 

Out in the bay where the wild grass grows 
We mark the spot where our ambush stands. 



We enter it just as the crimson flush 
Of morn illumines the hills with light. 

And patiently wait the first mad rush 
Of pinions soaring in airy flight. 



Autumn Days 83 

A rustle of wings from over there, 
Where all night long on watery bed 

The flocks have slept — and the morning air 
Rings with the messenger of lead. 

Many a pilgrim from far away 

Many a stranger from distant seas, 

Is dying to-day on St. Louis Bay, 

To requiem sung by the southern breeze. 

And thus till the sound of the vesper bell 
Comes stealing o'er Ottawa's dusky stream, 

And the ancient light-house we know so well 
Lights up the tide with its friendly gleam. 

Then up with the anchor and ply the oar. 
For homeward again our course must bear, 

Farewell to the " blind " by He Perrot's shore. 
And welcome the harbor of old Pointe Claire ! 



Madeleine Vercheres 

I'VE told you many a tale, my child, of the 
old heroic days 
Of Indian wars and massacre, of villages ablaze 
With savage torch, from Ville Marie to the 

Mission of Trois Rivieres 
But never have I told you yet, of Madeleine 
Vercheres. 



Summer had come with its blossoms, and gaily 
the robin sang 

And deep in the forest arches the axe of the 
woodman rang 

Again in the waving meadows, the sun-browned 
farmers met 

And out on the green St. Lawrence, the fisher- 
man spread his net. 

And so through the pleasant season, till the 

days of October came 
When children wrought with their parents, and 

even the old and lame 

84 



Madeleine Vercheres 85 

With tottering frames and footsteps, their 

feeble labors lent 
At the gathering of the harvest le bon Dieu 

himself had sent. 



For news there was none of battle, from the 

forts on the Richelieu 
To the gates of the ancient city, where the 

flag of King Louis flew 
All peaceful the skies hung over the seigneurie 

of Vercheres, 
Like the calm that so often cometh, ere the 

hurricane rends the air. 



And never a thought of danger had the 

Seigneur sailing away. 
To join the soldiers of Carignan, where down 

at Quebec they lay, 
But smiled on his little daughter, the maiden 

Madeleine, 
And a necklet of jewels promised her, when 

home he should come again. 



And ever the days passed swiftly, and careless 

the workmen grew 
For the months they seemed a hundred, since 

the last war-buelc blew. 



86 Madeleine Vercheres 

Ah! little they dreamt on their pillows, the 

farmers of Vercheres, 
That the wolves of the southern forest had 

scented the harvest fair. 



Like ravens they quickly gather, like tigers 

they watch their prey 
Poor people ! with hearts so happy, they sang 

as they toiled away. 
Till the murderous eyeballs glistened, and the 

tomahawk leaped out 
And the banks of the green St. Lawrence 
echoed the savage shout. 



Oh mother of Christ have pity," shrieked 

the women in despair 
This is no time for praying," cried the young 

Madeleine Vercheres, 
Aux armes! aux armes! les Iroquois! quick 

to your arms and guns 
Fight for your God and country and the lives 

of the innocent ones." 



And she sped like a deer of the mountain, when 

beagles press close behind 
And the feet that would follow after, must be 

swift as the prairie wind. 



Madeleine Vercheres 87 

Alas! for the men and women, and little ones 

that day 
For the road it was long and weary, and the 

fort it was far away. 



But the fawn had outstripped the hunters, and 
the palisades drew near, 

And soon from the inner gateway the war- 
bugle rang out clear ; 

Gallant and clear it sounded, with never a note 
of despair, 

'T was a soldier of France's challenge, from 
the young Madeleine Vercheres. 

" And this is my little garrison, my brothers 

Louis and Paul ? 
With soldiers two — and a cripple ? may the 

Virgin pray for us all. 
But we 've powder and guns in plenty, and 

we '11 fight to the latest breath 
And if need be for God and country, die a 

brave soldier's death. 



" Load all the carabines quickly, and whenever 

you sight the foe 
Fire from the upper turret, and the loopholes 

down below. 



88 Madeleine Vercheres 

Keep up the fire, brave soldiers, though the 

fight may be fierce and long 
And they '11 think our little garrison is more 

than a hundred strong:." 



So spake the maiden Madeleine, and she roused 

the Norman blood 
That seemed for a moment sleeping, and sent 

it like a flood 
Through every heart around her, and they 

fought the red Iroquois 
As fought in the old time battles, the soldiers 

of Carignan. 



And they say the black clouds gathered, and a 

tempest swept the sky 
And the roar of the tliunder mingled with the 

forest tiger's cry 
But still the garrison fought on, while the 

lightning's jagged spear 
Tore a hole in the night's dark curtain, and 

showed them a foeman near. 



And the sun rose up in the morning, and the 

color of blood was he 
Gazing down from the heavens on the little 

company. 



Madeleine Vercheres 89 

" Behold! my friends!" cried the maiden, " 't is 

a warning lest we forget 
Though the night saw us do our duty, our 

work is not finished yet." 



And six days followed each other, and feeble 

her limbs became 
Yet the maid never sought her pillow, and the 

flash of the carabines' flame 
Illumined the powder-smoked faces, aye, even 

when hope seemed gone 
And she only smiled on her comrades, and told 

them to fight, fight on. 

And she blew a blast on the bugle, and lo! 
from the forest black 

Merrily, merrily ringing, an answer came peal- 
ing back 

Oh! pleasant and sweet it sounded, borne on 
the morning air, 

For it heralded fifty soldiers, with gallant De 
la Monniere. 



And when he beheld the maiden, the soldier 

of Carignan, 
And looked on the little garrison that fought 

the red Iroquois 



90 Madeleine Vercheres 

And held their own in the battle, for six long 
weary days, 

He stood for a moment speechless, and mar- 
velled at woman's ways. 

Then he beckoned the men behind him and 

steadily they advance 
And with carabines uplifted, the veterans of 

France 
Saluted the brave young Captain so timidly 

standing there 
And they fired a volley in honor of Madeleine 

Vercheres. 

And this, my dear, is the story of the maiden 

Madeleine 
God grant that we in Canada may never see 

again 
Such cruel wars and massacres, in waking or in 

dream 
As our fathers and mothers saw, my child, in 

the days of the old regime. 



The Rose Delima 

You can sew heem up in a canvas sack, 
An' t'row heem over boar' 
You can wait till de ship she 's comin' back 

Den bury heem on de shore 
For dead man w'en he 's dead for sure, 

Ain't good for not'ing at all 
An' he '11 stay on de place you put heem 

Till he hear dat bugle call 
Dey say will soun' on de las', las' day 
W'en ev'ry t'ing 's goin' for pass away. 
But down on de Gulf of St. Laurent 

Were de sea an' de reever meet 
An' off on St. Pierre de Miquelon, 

De chil'ren on de street 
Can tole you story of Pierre Guillaume, 

De sailor of St. Yvonne 
Dat 's bringin' de Rose Delima home 

Affer he 's dead an' gone. 



He was stretch heem on de bed an' he could 
n't raise hees head 



92 The Rose Delima 

So dey place heem near de winder w'ere he 
can look below, 
An' watch de schooner He wit' her topmas' on 
de sky, 
An' oh! how mad it mak' heem, ole Cap- 
tinne Baribeau. 

For she 's de fines' boat dat never was afloat 
From de harbour of St. Simon to de shore of 
New-fun-lan' 
She can almos' dance a reel, an' de sea shell on 
her keel 
Wall! you count dem very easy on de finger 
of your han'. 

But de season 's fly in' fas', an' de fall is nearly 
pas' 
An' de leetle Rose Delima she 's doin' not- 
'ing dere 
Only pullin' on her chain, an' wishin' once 
again 
She was w'ere de black fish tumble, an jomp 
upon de air. 

But who can tak' her out, for she 's got de 
tender mout* 
Lak a trotter on de race-course dat 's mebbe 
run away 



The Rose Delima 93 

If he 's not jus' handle so— an' ole Capti'nne 
Baribeau 
Was de only man can sail her, dat 's w'at 
dey offen say. 

An' now he 's lyin' dere, w'ere de breeze is 
blow hees hair 
An' he 's hearin' ev'ry morning de Rose 
Delima call, 
Sayin', " Come along wit' me, an' we '11 off 
across de sea, 
For I 'm lonesome waitin' for you, Captinne 
Paul. 

" On Anticosti shore we hear de breaker roar 
An' reef of Dead Man's Islan' too we know, 
But we never miss de way, no matter night or 
day, 
De Rose Delima schooner an' Captinne 
Baribeau." 

De Captinne cry out den, so de house is shake 
again. 
Come here! come here, an' quickly, ma 
daughter Virginie, 
An' let me hoi' your han', for so long as I 
can Stan' 
I '11 tak' de Rose Delima, an' sail her off to 
sea." 



94 The Rose Delima 

" No, no, ma fader dear, you 're better stayin' 
here 
Till de cherry show her blossom on de 
spring, 
For de loon he 's flyin' sout' an' de fall is 
nearly out, 
Wen de wil' bird of de nort' is on de wing. 

" But fader dear, I know de man can go below 
Wit' leetle Rose Delima on St. Pierre de 
Miquelon 
Hees nam' is Pierre Guillaume, an' he '11 bring 
de schooner home 
Till she 's t'rowin' out her anchor on de port 
of St. Simon." 

" Ha! Ha! ma Virginie, it is n't hard to see 

You lak dat smart young sailor man youse'f, 
I s'pose he love you too, but I tole you w'at 
I do 
Wen I have some leetle talk wit' heem 
mese'f. 

" So call heem up de stair": an' w'en he 's 
stannin' dere, 
De Captinne say, " Young feller, you see 
how sick I be ' 
De poor ole Baribeau has n't very much below 
Beside de Rose Delima, an' hees daughter 
Virginie. 



The Rose Delima 95 

" An' I know your fader well, he 's fine man 
too, Noel, 
An' hees nam' was comin' offen on ma 
prayer — 
An' if your sailor blood she 's only half as good 
You can sail de Rose Delima from here to 
any w'ere. 

" You love ma Virginie ? wall! if you promise 
me 
You bring de leetle schooner safely home 
From St. Pierre de Miquelon to de port of St. 
Simon 
You can marry on ma daughter, Pierre Guil- 
laume. " 

An' Pierre he answer den, "Ma fader was your 
frien' 
An' it 's true your daughter Virginie I love, 
Dat schooner she '11 come home, or ma nam' 's 
not Pierre Guillaume 
I swear by all de angel up above." 

So de wil' bird goin' sout', see her shake de 
canvas out, 
An' soon de Rose Delima she 's flyin' down 
de bay 
An' poor young Virginie so long as she can see 
Kip watchin' on dat schooner till at las' 
she's gone away. 



96 The Rose Delima 

Ho! ho! for Gasp6 cliff w'en de win' is blowin' 
stiff, 
Ho! ho! for Anticosti w'ere bone of dead 
man lie ! 
De sailor cimetiere! God help de beegshipdere 
If dey come too near de islan' vv'en de wave 
she 's runnin' high. 

It 's locky t'ing he know de way he ought to 

go 
It 's locky too de star above, he know dem 

ev'ry wan 
For God he mak' de star, was shinin' up so far, 
So he trus' no oder compass, young Pierre 

of St. Yvonne. 

An' de schooner sail away pas' Wolf Islan' an' 
Cape Ray — 
W'ere de beeg wave fight each oder roun' de 
head of ole Pointe Blanc 
Only gettin' pleasan' win', till she tak' de 
canvas in 
An' drop de anchor over on St. Pierre de 
Miquelon. 

We 're glad to see some more, de girl upon de 
shore. 
An' Jean Barbette was kipin' Hotel de Sans- 
souci 



The Rose Delima 97 

He 's also glad vvc come, 'cos we mak' de rafter 
hum ; 
An' w'en we 're stayin' dere, ma foi! we 
spen' de monee free. 

But Captinne Pierre Guillaume, might jus' as 
well be home, 
For he don't forget his sweetheart an' ole 
man Baribeau, 
An' so he stay on boar', an' fifty girl or more 
Less dey haul heem on de bowline, dey 
could n't mak' heem go. 

Wall! we 're workin' hard an' fas', an' de 
cargo 's on at las' 
Two honder cask of w'isky, de fines' on de 
worl' ! 
So good-bye to Miquelon, an' hooraw for St. 
Simon — 
An' au revoir to Jean Barbette, an' don't 
forget de girl. 

You can hear de schooner sing, w'en she open 
out her wing 
So glad to feel de slappin' of de sea wave on 
her breas' 
She did n't los* no tam, but travel jus' de 
sam'. 
As de small bird w'en he 's flyin' on de even- 
ing to hees nes'. 



98 The Rose Delima 

But her sail 's not blowin' out wit' de warm 
breeze of de sout' 
An' it 's not too easy tellin' w'ere de snow- 
flake meet de foam 
Stretcliin' out on ev'ry side, all across de Gulf 
so wide 
Wen de nor'-eas' win' is chasin' de Rose 
Delima home. 

An' we 're flyin' once again pas' de Isle of 
Madeleine 
An' away for Anticosti we let de schooner 

go 
Lak a race-horse on de track, we could never 

hoi' her back — 

She mebbe hear heem callin' her, ole Cap- 

tinne Baribeau ! 

But we 're ketchin' it wan night w'en de star 
go out of sight 
For de storm dat 's waitin' for us, come be- 
fore we know it 's dere — 
An' it blow us near de coas' w'ere dey leev' 
de sailor's ghos' 
On de shore of Dead Man's Islan' till dey 
almos' fill de air. 

So de Captinne tak' de wheel, an' it mak' de 
schooner feel 



The Rose Delima 



99 



Jus' de sam' as ole man Baribeau is workin' 

dere hese'f 
Well she know it 's life or deat', so she 's 

fightin' hard for breat' 
For wit' all dem wave a chokin' her, it 's 

leetle she got lef. 

Den de beeges' sea of all, stannin' up dere lak 
a wall 
Come along an' sweep de leetle Rose De- 
lima fore an' af 
An' above de storm a cry, " Help, mon Dieu ! 
before I die." 
An' dere 's no wan on de wheel house, an' 
we hear dem spirit laugh. 

Dey 're lookin' for dead man, an' dey 're 
shoutin' all dey can 
Don't matter all de pile dey got dey want 
anoder wan — 
An' now dey 're laughin' loud, for out of all 
de crowd 
Dey got no finer sailor boy dan Pierre of St. 
Yvonne! 

But look dere on de wheel! w'at 's dat was 
seem to steal 
From now'ere, out of not'ing, till it reach de 
pilot's place 



loo The Rose Delima 

An' steer de rudder too, lak de Captinne used 
to do 
So lak' de Captinne's body, so lak de Cap- 
tinne's face. 



But well enough we know de poor boy 's gone 
below. 
Were hees bone will join de oder on de 
place w'ere dead man be — 
An' we only see phantome of young Captinne 
Pierre Guillaume 
Dat sail de Rose Delima all night along de 
sea. 



So we help heem all we can, kip de schooner 
off de Ian' 
W'ere bad spirit work de current dat was 
puUin' us inside — 
But we fool dem all at las', an' we know de 
danger 's pas' 
Wen de sun come out an' fin' us floatin' 
on de mornine tide. 



So de Captinne's work is done, an* nex' day de 
schooner run 
Wit' de sail all hangin' roun' her, to de port 
of St. Simon. 



The Rose Delima loi 

Dat 's de way young Pierre Guillaume bring 
de Rose Delima home 
T'roo de wil' an' stormy wedder from St. 
Pierre de Miquelon. 

An' de leetle Virginie never look upon de sea 
Since de tam de Rose Delima 's comin' 
home, 
For she 's lef de worl' an' all! but behin' de 
convent wall 
She don't forget her fader an' poor young 
Pierre Guillaume. 




' LITTLE MOU5E 

GET along leetle mouse, kick de snow up 
behin' you 
For it's fine winter road we 're travel to- 
night 
Wit' de moon an' de star shinin' up on de sky 
dere 
W'y it 's almos' de sam' as de broad day 
light. 



De bell roun' your body it 's quick tune dey 're 
playin' 
But your foot 's kipin' tarn jus' as steady 
can be, 
Ah! you dance youse'f crazy if only I let you, 
Ma own leetle pony — petite souris. 

102 



Little Mouse 103 

You 'member w'en firse we be tryin' for broke 
you 
An' Joe Sauvageau bet hees two dollar bill 
He can drive you alone by de bridge on de 
reever 
An' down near de place w'ere dey got de 
beeg mill. 

An' it 's new cariole too, is come from St, 
Felix 

Jo-seph 's only buyin' it week before, 
An' w'en he is passin' de road wit' hees trotter 

Ev'ry body was stan' on de outside door. 

An' dere he sit, sam' he don't care about 

not'ing 

Hees foot on de dashboar', hees han' on de 

line 

Ev'ry dog on de place is come out for barkin' 

An' all de young boy he was ronnin' behin'. 

Wall ! sir, Joe 's put on style leetle soon for 
hees pleasure 
For w'en de mill w'issle, you jomp lak de 
cat 
An' nex' t'ing poor Joe is commencin' get 
busy, 
Non ! I never see fine run-away lak dat. 



I04 Little Mouse 

'Way go de pony den — ^'way go de cariole, 
Poor Joe say," good-bye " on de foot of de 
hill 

An' all he can see of de sleigh de nex' morning 
Is jus' about pay for hees two dollar bill. 

Ah! your right nam' jus' den should be leetle 
devil 
An' not leetle mouse, de sam' you have now. 
Wall! dat 's long ago, an' you 're gettin' more 
quiet 
Since tam you was never done kickin' de 
row. 

But I 'm not very sorry de firse day I see you 
Settle down on de trot lak your fader he get 

W'en he beat Sorel Boy on de ice at T'ree 
Reever 
Bes' two on t'ree heat, an' win all de bet. 

Your moder she 's come off de Lachapelle stock 
too 

Ole Canayen blood from Berthier en haut 
De bes' kin' of horse never look on de halter 

So it is n't moche wonder you know how to 

go- 

Dat 's church bell we 're hearin' off dere on de 
hillside 



Little Mouse 105 

Get along leetle mouse, for we must n't be 

late, 
Fin' your way t'roo de res' of dem crowdin' de 

roadside 
You '11 never get better chance showin' your 

gait. 

Wall ! church is all over, an' Josephine 's comin' 

For drive wit' us home on her gran'moder's 

house 

So tak' your own tam an' don't be on de hurry 

Your slowes' gait 's quick enough now, leetle 

mouse. 







Strathcona's Horse 

(Dedicated to Lord Strathcona.) 

01 was thine, and thou wert mine, and 
ours the boundless plain. 
Where the winds of the North, my gallant 

steed, ruffled thy tawny mane, 
But the summons hath come with roll of drum, 

and bugles ringing shrill, 
Startling the prairie antelope, the grizzly of the 

hill. 
'T is the voice of Empire calling, and the child- 
ren gather fast 
From every land where the cross bar floats out 

from the quivering mast; 
So into the saddle I leap, my own, with bridle 

swinging free, 
And thy hoofbeats shall answer the trumpets 

blowing across the sea. 
Then proudly toss thy head aloft, nor think of 

the foe to-morrow, 
For he who dares to stay our course drinks 

deep of the Cup of Sorrow. 
1 06 



Strathcona s Horse 107 

Thy form hath pressed the meadow's breast, 

where the sullen grey wolf hides, 
The great red river of the North hath cooled 

thy burning sides; 
Together we 've slept while the tempest swept 

the Rockies' glittering chain ; 
And many a day the bronze centaur hath gal- 
loped behind in vain. 
But the sweet wild grass of mountain pass, and 

the shimmering summer streams 
Must vanish forevermore, perchance, into the 

land of dreams; 
For the strong young North hath sent us forth 

to battlefields far away, 
And the trail that ends where Empire trends, 

is the trail we ride to-day. 
But proudly toss thy head aloft, nor think of 

the foe to-morrow. 
For he who bars Strathcona's Horse, drinks 

deep of the Cup of Sorrow. 



Johnnie's First Moose 

DE cloud is hide de moon, but dere 's plain- 
tee light above, 
Steady Johnnie, steady — kip your head down 

low. 
Move de paddle leetle quicker, an' de ole canoe 
we '11 shove 

T'roo de water nice an' quiet 
For de place we 're goin' try it 
Is beyon' de silver birch dere 
You can see it lak a church dere 
Wen we 're passin' on de corner w'ere de lily 
flower grow. 



Was n't dat correc' w'at I 'm tolin' you jus' 

now ? 
Steady Johnnie, steady — kip your head down 

low, 
Never min', I '11 watch behin' — me — an' you 
can watch de bow 

An' you '11 see a leetle clearer 
Wen canoe is comin' nearer — 

io8 



Johnnie's First Moose 109 

Dere she is — now easy, easy, 
For de win' is gettin' breezy, 
An' we don't want not'ing smell us, till de 
horn begin to blow — 

I remember long ago w'en ma fader tak' me out, 
Steady Johnnie, steady — kip your head down 

low. 
Jus' de way I 'm takin' you, sir, hello! was 
dat a shout ? 

Seems to me I t'ink I 'm hearin' 
Somet'ing stirrin' on de clearin' 
Were it stan' de lumber shaintee, 
If it 's true, den you '11 have plaintee 
Work to do in half a minute, if de moose don't 
start to go. 

An' now we 're on de shore, let us hide de ole 

canoe. 
Steady Johnnie, steady — kip your head down 

low, 
An' lie among de rushes, dat 's bes' t'ing we 
can do. 

For de ole boy may be closer 
Dan anybody know, sir. 
An' look out you don't be shakin' 
Or de bad shot you '11 be makin' 
But I 'm feelin' sam' way too, me, w'en I 
was young, also — 



no Johnnie's First Moose 

You ready for de call ? here goes for number 

wan, 
Steady Johnnie, steady — kip your head down 

low. 
Did you hear how nice I do it, an' how it 
travel on 

Till it reach across de reever 
Dat '11 geev' some moose de fever! 
Wait now, Johnnie, don't you worry, 
No use bein' on de hurr}^. 
But lissen for de answer, it '11 come before you 
know. 

For w'y you jomp lak dat ? w'at 's matter wit' 

your ear ? 
Steady, Johnnie, steady — kip your head down 

low — 
Tak' your finger off de trigger, dat was only 
bird you hear. 

Can't you tell de pine tree crickin' 
Or de boule frog w'en he 's spikin' ? 
Don't you know de grey owl singin' 
From de beeg moose w'en he 's ringin' 
Out hees challenge on de message your ole 
gran'fader blow ? 

You 're lucky boy to-night, wit' hunter man 

lak me ! 
Steady, Johnnie, steady — kip your head down 

low — 



Johnnie's First Moose m 

Can tole you all about it! H-s-s-h! dat 's 
somet'ing now I see, 

Dere he 's comin' t'roo de bushes, 
So get down among de rushes, 
Hear heem walk! I t'ink, by tonder, 
He mus' go near fourteen honder! 
Dat 's de feller I been watchin' all de evening, 
I dunno. 



I '11 geev' anoder call, jus' a leetle wan or 

two. 
Steady, Johnnie, steady — kip your head down 

low — 
Wen he see dere 's no wan waitin' I wonder 
w'at he '11 do ? 

But look out for here he 's comin' 
Sa-pris-ti! ma heart is drummin' ! 
You can never get heem nearer 
An' de moon is shinin' clearer, 
W'at a fine shot you '11 be havin' ! now 
Johnnie let her go! 

Bang! bang! you got heem sure! an' he '11 
never run away 

Nor feed among de lily on de shore of Wes- 
sonneau, 

So dat 's your firse moose Johnnie! wall! re- 
member all I say — 



112 Johnnie's First Moose 

Does n't matter w'at you 're chasin', 
Does n't matter w'at you 're facin', 
Only watch de t'ing you 're doin' 
If you don't, ba gosh ! you 're ruin ! 
An' steady, Johnnie, steady — kip your head 
down low. 



The Old Pine Tree 



(Dedicated to the St. George Snovvshoe Club.) 

LISTEN my child," said the old pine 
tree, to the little one nestling near, 
" For the storm clouds troop together to-night, 

and the wind of the north I hear 
And perchance there may come some echo of 

the music of long ago. 
The music that rang when the White Host 
sang, marching across the snow." 

" Up and away Saint George! up thro' the 

mountain gorge. 
Over the plain where the tempest blows, and 

the great white flakes are flying 
Down the long narrow glen! faster my merry 

men. 
Follow the trail, tho' the shy moon hides, and 

deeply the drifts are lying." 

"Ah! mother," the little pine tree replied, 
" you are dreaming again to-night 
113 



114 The Old Pine Tree 

Of ghostly visions and phantom forms that for- 
ever mock your sight 

'T is true the moan of the winter wind comes 
to my Hst'ning ear 

But the White Host marching, I cannot see, 
and their music I cannot hear." 

When the northern skies were all aflame 

where the trembling banners swung, 
When up in the vaulted heavens the moon of 

the Snow Shoe hung. 
When the hurricane swept the hillside, and the 

crested drifts ran high 
Those were the nights," said the old pine tree, 

" the great White Host marched by." 

And the storm grew fiercer, fiercer, and the 

snow went hissing past, 
But the little pine tree still listened, till she 

heard above the blast 
The music her mother loved to hear in the 

nights of the long ago 
And saw in the forest the white-clad Host 

marching across the snow. 

And loud they sang as they tramped along of 

the glorious bygone days 
When valley and hill re-echoed the snow- 

shoer's hymn of praise 



The Old Pine Tree 115 

Till the shy moon gazed down smiling, and the 

north wind paused to hear 
And the old pine tree felt young again as the 

little one nestling near. 

Up and away Saint George! up thro' the 

mountain gorge. 
Over the plain where the tempest blows, and 

the great white flakes are flying. 
Down the long narrow glen ! faster my merry 

men. 
Follow the trail, tho' the shy moon hides, and 

deeply the drifts are lying." 



Little Bateese 

You bad leetle boy, not moche you care 
How busy you 're kipin' your poor gran'- 
pere 
Tryin' to stop you ev'ry day 
Chasin' de hen aroun' de hay — 
W'y don't you geev' dem a chance to lay ? 

Leetle Bateese! 

Off on de fiel' you foller de plough 
Den w'en you 're tire you scare de cow 
Sickin* de dog till dey jomp de wall 
So de milk ain't good for not'ing at all — 
An' you 're only five an' a half dis fall, 

Leetle Bateese! 



Too sleepy for sayin' de prayer to-night ? 
Never min' I s'pose it '11 be all right 
Say dem to-morrow — ah! dere he go! 
Fas' asleep in a minute or so — 
An' he '11 stay lak dat till de rooster crow, 

Leetle Bateese! 
Ii6 



Little Bateese 117 

Den wake us up right away toute suite 
Lookin' for somet'ing more to eat, 
Makin' me t'ink of dem long leg crane 
Soon as dey svvaller, dey start again, 
I wonder your stomach don't get no pain, 

Leetle Bateese ! 

But see heem now lyin' dere in bed, 
Look at de arm onderneat' hees head; 
If he grow lak dat till he 's twenty year 
I bet he '11 be stronger dan Louis Cyr 
An' beat all de voyageurs leevin' here, 

Leetle Bateese ! 

Jus' feel de muscle along hees back. 
Won't geev' heem moche bodder for carry pack 
On de long portage, any size canoe, 
Dere 's not many t'ing dat boy won't do 
For he 's got double-joint on hees body too, 

Leetle Bateese ! 

But leetle Bateese! please don't forget 
We rader you 're stayin' de small boy yet, 
So chase de chicken an' mak' dem scare 
An' do w'at you lak wit' your ole gran'pere 
For w'en you 're beeg feller he won't be dere — 

Leetle Bateese! 




Donar Campbell 



D' 



ONAL' CAMPBELL 
— Donal' Bane — 
sailed away across the 
ocean 

With the tartans of Clan 
Gordon, to the Indies' 
distant shore, 

15ut on Dargai's lonely hill- 
side, Donal' Campbell 
met the foeman, 

And the glen of Athol 
Moray will never see him more! 

O! the wailing of the women, O! the storm of 

bitter sorrow 
Sweeping like the wintry torrent thro' Athol 

Moray's glen 
When the black word reached the clansmen, 

that young Donal' Bane had fallen 
In the red glare of the battle, with the gallant 

Gordon men! 

ii8 



Donal' Campbell 119 

Far from home and native shelling, with the 
sun of India o'er him 

Blazing down its cruel hatred on the white- 
faced men below 

Stood young Donal' with his comrades, like the 
hound of ghostly Fingal 

Eager, waiting for the summons to leap up 
against the foe — 

Hark! at last! the pipes are pealing out the 

welcome Caber Feidh 
And wild the red blood rushes thro' every 

Highland vein 
They breathe the breath of battle, the children 

of the Gael, 
And fiercely up the hillside, they charge and 

charge again- — ■ 

And the grey eye of the Highlands, now is 

dark as blackest midnight. 
The history of their fathers is written on each 

face, 
Of border creach and foray, of never yielding 

conflict 
Of all the memories shrouding a stern uncon- 

quered race ! 

And up the hillside, up the mountain, while 
the war-pipes shrilly clamour 



I20 Donal' Campbell 

Bayonet thrusting, broadsword cleaving, the 

Northern soldiers fought 
Till the sun of India saw them victors o'er the 

dusky foemen. 
For who can stay the Celtic hand when Celtic 

blood is hot ? 

But the corse of many a clansman from the far- 
off Scottish Highlands 

'Mid the rocks of savage Dargai is lying cold 
and still 

With the death-dew on its forehead, and young 
Donal' Campbell's tartan 

Bears a deeper stain of purple than the heather 
of the hill! 

Mourn him ! Mourn him thro' the mountains, 

wail him women of Clan Campbell! 
Let the Coronach be sounded till it reach the 

Indian shore 
For your beautiful has fallen in the foremost 

of the battle 
And the glen of Athol Moray will never see 

him more ' 



The Dublin Fusilier 

HERE 'S to you, Uncle Kruger! slaint^ ! 
an' slainte galore. 
You 're a dacint ould man, begorra; never 

mind if you are a Boer. 
So witii heart an' a half ma bouchal, we '11 

drink to your health to-night 
For yourself an' your farmer sojers gave us a 
damn good fight. 

I was dramin' of Kitty Farrell, away in the 
Gap o' Dunloe, 

When the song of the bugle woke me, ringin' 
across Glencoe ; 

An' once in a while a bullet came pattherin' 
from above. 

That tould us the big brown fellows were send- 
in' us down their love. 



'T was a kind of an invitation, an' written in 

such a han' 
That a Chinaman could n't refuse it — not to 

spake of an Irishman. 

121 



122 The Dublin Fusilier 

So the pickets sent back an answer. " We 're 

comin' with right good will," 
Along what they call the kopje, tho' to me it 

looked more like a hill. 



" Fall in on the left," sez the captain, " my 

men of the Fusiliers; 
You '11 see a great fight this morning — like 

you have n't beheld for years." 
" Faith, captain dear," sez the sergeant, " you 

can bet your Majuba sword 
If the Dutch is as willin' as we are, you never 

spoke truer word." 

So we scrambled among the bushes, the bowl- 
ders an' rocks an' all, 

Like the ganger's men still-huntin' on the 
mountains of Donegal; 

We doubled an' turned an' twisted the same 
as a hunted hare, 

While the big guns peppered each other over 
us in the air. 



Like steam from the divil's kettle the kopje 

was bilin' hot, 
For the breeze of the Dutchman's bullets was 

the only breeze we got ; 



The Dublin Fusilier 123 

An' many a fine boy stumbled, many a brave 

lad died, 
When the Dutchman's message caught him 

there on the mountainside. 



Little Nelly O'Brien, God help her! over 

there at ould Ballybay, 
Will wait for a Transvaal letter till her face an' 

her hair is grey, 
For I seen young Crohoore on a stretcher, an' 

I knew the poor boy was gone 
When I spoke to the ambulance doctor, an' he 

nodded an' then passed on. 



Steady there! " cried the captain, " we must 

halt for a moment here." 
An' he spoke like a man in trainin', full winded 

an' strong an' clear. 
So we threw ourselves down on the kopje, 

weary an' tired as death, 
Waitin' the captain's orders, waitin' to get a 

breath. 



It 's strange all the humors an' fancies that 

comes to a man like me; 
But the smoke of the battle risin' took me 

across the sea — 



124 The Dublin Fusilier 

It 's the mist of Benbo I 'm seein' ; an' the 

rock that we '11 capture soon 
Is the rock where I shot the eagle, when I was 

a small gossoon. 

I close my eyes for a minute, an' hear my poor 

mother say, 
Patrick, avick, my darlin', you 're surely not 

goin' away 
To join the red-coated sojers ? " — but the 

blood in me was strong — 
If your sire was a Connaught Ranger, sure 

where would his son belong ? 



Hark! whisht! do you hear the music comin' 

up from the camp below ? 
An odd note or two when the Maxims take 

breath for a second or so, 
Liftin' itself on somehow, stealin' its way up 

here, 
Knowin' there 's waitin' to hear it, many an 

Irish ear. 



Augh ! Garryowen ! you 're the jewel ! an' we 
charged on the Dutchman's guns. 

An' covered the bloody kopje, like a Galway 
greyhound runs, 



The Dublin Fusilier 125 

At the top of the hill they met us, with faces 

all set and grim ; 
But they could n't take the bayonet — ^that 's 

the trouble with most of thim. 



So of course, they '11 be praisin' the Royals 

an' men of the Fusiliers, 
An' the newspapers help to dry up the widows 

an' orphans' tears, 
An' they '11 write a new name on the colors — 

that is, if there 's room for more 
An' we 'II follow them thro' the battle, the same 

as we 've done before. 



But here's to you, Uncle Kruger! slainte! an' 

slainte galore. 
After all, your 're a dacint Christian, never 

mind if you are a Boer. 
So with heart an' a half, ma bouchal, we '11 

drink to your health to-night. 
For yourself an' your brown-faced Dutchmen 

gave us a damn good fight. 




BORD d Plouffe, Bord d Plouffe, 
Wat do I see w'en I dream of you ? 
A shore w'ere de water is racin' by, 
A small boy lookin', an' wonderin' w'y 
He can't get fedder for goin' fly 
Lak de hawk makin' ring on de summer sky. 
Dat 's w'at I see. 

Bord a Plouffe, Bord a PloufTe, 
W'at do I hear w'en I dream of you? 
Too many t'ing for sleepin' well! 
De song of de ole tam cariole bell, 
De voice of dat girl from Sainte Angele 
(I geev' her a ring was mark " fidele ") 
Dat 's w'at I hear. 



Bord a Plouffe, Bord a Plouffe, 
W'at do I smoke w'en I dream of you ? 
126 



Dreams 127 

Havana cigar from across de sea, 
An' get dem for not'ing too ? No siree! 
Dere 's only wan kin' of tabac for me. 
An' it grow on de Riviere des Prairies — 
Dat 's w'at I smoke. 

Bord a Plouffe, Bord d Plouffe, 
How do I feel w'en I t'lnk of you ? 
Sick, sick for de ole place way back dere — 
An' to sleep on ma own leetle room upstair 
Were de ghos' on de chimley mak' me scare 
I 'd geev' more monee dan I can spare — 
Dat 's how I feel. 

Bord a Plouffe, Bord a Plouffe, 
W'at will I do w'en I 'm back wit' you ? 
I '11 buy de farm of Bonhomme Martel, 
Long tarn he 's been waitin' a chance to sell. 
Den pass de nex' morning on Sainte Angele, 
An' if she 's not marry — dat girl — very well, 
Dat 's w'at I '11 do. 





i- 



IKNOW very well t' was purty hard case 
If dere 's not on de worl' some beeger place 
Dan village of Cote St. Paul, 
But we got mebbe sixty-five house or more 
Wit' de blacksmit' shop an' two fine store 
Not to speak of de church an' de city hall. 

An' of course on village lak dat you fin' 
Some very nice girl if you have a min' 
To look aroun', an' we got dem too — 
But de fines' of all never wear a ring, 
Since firse I 'm t'inkin' of all dem t'ing, 
Was daughter of ole Narcisse Beaulieu. 



Narcisse he 's bedeau on de beeg church dere, 
He also look affer de presbytere, 
An' leev on de house close by, 
128 



The Old Sexton 129 

On Sunday he 's vvatchin' de leetle boys, 
Stoppin' dem kickin' up too much noise, 
An' he bury de peop' w'en dey 're comin' die. 

So dat 's w'at he do, Narcisse Beaulieu, 
An' it 's not very easy I 'm tolin' you, 
But a purty large heavy load, 
For on summer de cow she was run aroun' 
An' eat all de flower on de Curb's groun' 
An' before he can ketch her, p-s-s-t ! she 's 
down de road. 

Dat 's not'ing at all, for w'en winter come 
Narcisse got plaintee more work, ba gum! 
Shovellin' snow till hees back was sore, 
Makin' some track for de horse an' sleigh, 
Kipin' look out dey don't run away, 
An' freezin' outside on de double door. 

But w'enever de vault on de church is fill 
Wit' de peop' was waitin' down dere ontil 
Dey can go on de cimeti^re. 
For fear dem student will come aroun' 
An' tak' de poor dead folk off to town 
Narcisse offen watch for dem all night dere. 

An' de girl Josephine she 's her fader's pet, 
He never see nobody lak her yet. 
So w'en he 's goin' on St. Jerome 



I30 The Old Sexton 

For travel about on some leetle tour 
An' lef her alone on de house, I 'm sure 
De house she 's all right w'en he 's comin' 
home. 

Wall! nearly t'ree year is come an' go, 
De quietes' year de village know, 
For dem student don't show hees face. 
An' de peop' is beginnin' to ax w'at for 
Dey 're alway goin'. on He Bizard 
An' never pass on our place. 

But it 's bully tam for de ole Narcisse, 
An' w'en he 's lettin' heem go de pries' 
For stay away two t'ree day 
He t'ink of course it was purty good chance, 
So he buy heem new coat an' pair of pants, 
An' go see hees frien' noder side de bay. 

An' dat very sam' night, ba gosh! it seem 
De girl 's not dreamin' some pleasan' dream 
For she visit de worse place never seen 
Down on T'ree Reever, an' near Kebeck 
Were robber-man's chokin' her on de neck — 
De poor leetle Josephine! 

So she 's risin' up den and she tak' de gun 

An' off on de winder she quickly run 

For fear she might need a shot 

An' dem student he 's comin' across de square 



The Old Sexton 131 

Right on de front of de cimetiere 

An' carryin' somet'ing — you know w'at! 

So she 's takin' good aim on de beeges' man 

An' pull de trigger de hard she can, 

An' he 's yellin' an' down he go, 

Hees frien' dey say not'ing, but clear out quick, 

Dat 's way Josephine she was playin' trick 

On feller was treatin' poor dead folk so! 

Den she kick up a row an' begin to feel 
Very sorry right off for de boy she keel 
An' de nex' t'ing she 's startin' cry 
An' call on her fader an' moder too, 
Poor leetle Josephine Beaulieu, 
An' wishin' she 'd lak to die. 

But she did n't die den, an' he 's leevin' yet — 
Dat feller was comin' so near hees deat' — 
For she 's nursin' heem back to life, 
Dey 're feexin' it someway, I dunno how. 
But dey 're marry an' leev' in de city now 
An' she 's makin' heem firse class wife. 

An' Narcisse hese'f he was alway say, 

It 's fonny t'ing how it come dat way 
But I 'm not very sorry at all. 
Course I know ma son he 's not doin' right. 
But man he was haulin' aroun' dat night 
Is worse ole miser on Cote St. Paul." 



Child Thoughts 



WRITTEN TO COMMEMORATE THE ANNIVER- 
SARY OF MY BROTHER TOM'S BIRTHDAY 

O MEMORY, take my hand to-day 
And lead me thro' the darkened bridge 
Washed by the wild Atlantic spray 

And spanning many a wind-swept ridge 
Of sorrow, grief, of love and joy, 
Of youthful hopes and manly fears! 
O! let me cross the bridge of years 
And see myself again a boy ! 

The shadows pass — I see the light, 

morning light, how clear and strong! 
My native skies are smiling bright, 

No more I grope my way along, 

It comes, the murmur of the tide 
Upon my ear — I hear the cry 
Of wandering sea birds as they fly 

In trooping squadrons far and near. 

The breeze that blows o'er Mullaghmore 

1 feel against my boyish cheek 

132 



Child Thoughts 133 

The white-walled huts that strew the shore 
From Castlegal to old Belleek, 

The fisher folk of Donegal, 

Kindly of heart and strong of arm, 

Who plough the ocean's treacherous farm, 

How plainly I behold them all ! 

The thrush's song, the blackbird's note, 

The wren within the hawthorn hedge, 
The robin's swelling vibrant throat, 

The leveret crouching in the sedge! 
In those dear days, ah! what was school ? 

When Nature made our pulses thrill! 

The lessons we remember still 
Were learnt at Nature's own footstool! 

The hounds are out! the beagles chase 
Along the slopes of Tawley's plain! " 

I rise and follow in the race 

Till fox, or hare, or both are slain, 

With heart ablaze, I loose the reins 
Of all my childish fierce desire, 
My faith! 't is Ireland plants the fire 

And iron in her children's veins! 

The mountain linnet whistles sweet 
Among the gorse of summer-time, 

As up the hill with eager feet 

The sun of mornine sees me climb 



134 Child Thoughts 

Until at last I sink to rest 

Where heatherbells swing to the tune 
That Benbo breezes softly croon — 

A tired child on the mother's breast ! 

And now in wisdom's riper years, 
Ah, wisdom ! what a price we pay 

Of sorrow, grief, of smiles and tears. 
Before we reach that wiser day ! 

We meet to greet in joy and mirth 
The white-haired parent of us all 
Our childhood's memories to recall 

And bless the land that gave us birth. 



^^^fc^lf 




Bateese and his Little Decoys 

1 'm very very tire Marie, 
I wonder if I 'm able hoi' a gun 
An' me dat 's alvvay risin' wit' de sun 
An' travel on de water, an' paddle ma canoe 
An' trap de mink an' beaver de fall an' winter 

t'roo, 
But now I t'ink dat fun is gone forever. 

Wall! I 'm mebbe stayin' long enough, 
For eighty-four I see it on de spring; 
Dough ma fader he was feelin' purty tough 

An' at ninety year can do mos' ev'ry t'ing, 
But I never know de feller, don't care how ole 

he come, 
Dat is n't sure to t'ink he 's got anoder year, 

ba gum ! 
Before he lif de anchor for de las' tam ! 

It 's not so easy lyin' on de bed, 
An' lissen to de wil' bird on de bay, 

Dey know dat poor Bateese is nearly dead. 
Or dey would n't have such good fun ev'ry 
day ! 

135 



136 Bateese and his Little Decoys 

Put ma gun upon de piller near de winder, jus' 

for luck, 
Den bring w'ere I can see dem, ma own nice 

leetle duck 
So I have some talk wit' dem mese'f dis 

morninsf. 



Ah! dere you 're comin' now! mes beaux 
canards! 
Dat 's very pleasan' day, an' how you feel ? 

Of course you dunno w'at I want you for, 
Wall! lately I 've been t'inkin' a good deal 

Of all de fuss I 'm havin' show you w'at you 
ought to do 

Wen de cole win' of October de blin' is blow- 
ing t'roo 

An' de bluebill 's flyin' up an' down de reever. 

O! de bodder I 'm havin' wit' you all! 

It 's makin' me feel ole before ma tarn! 
Stan* over dere upon de right again de wall, 
Ma-dame Lapointe — I 'm geevin' you Ma- 
dame 
'Cos you walk aroun' de sam' way as ma cousin 

Aurelie 
An' lak youse'f she 's havin' de large large 

familee, 
Now let us see you don't forget your lesson! 



Bateese and his Little Decoys 137 

Qu a-a-ck! you 're leetle hoarse to-day, don't 

you t'ink ? 
Quack! quack! quack! dat 's right Mam- 

zelle Louise! 
You go lak dat, an' quicker dan a wink. 

It '11 ring across de lake along de breeze. 
Till de wil' bird dey will lissen up de reever 

far an' near, 
An' tole de noder wan too, de musique dey was 

hear 
An' dey '11 fly aroun' our head before we know 

it. 

Come here, Francois, an' min' you watch 

youse'f ! 
You can't forget de las' day we was out, 
Your breat' dere 's very leetle of it lef 

An' I tole you it was better shut your mout' 
Wen you start dat fancy yellin', for it soun' 

de sam' to me 
Lak de devil he was goin' on de beeges' kin' 

of spree, 
Francois! dat 's not de way for mak' de 

shootin' ! 

Wan — two — t'ree, — now let us hear you please, 
It is n't very hard job if you try, 

Purten' you 're feelin' lonesome lak Louise 
An' want to see de sweetheart bimeby. 



138 Bateese and his Little Decoys 

Quack! quack! quack! 

O! stop dat screechin', don't never spik no 

more 
For if anyt'ing, sapree, tonnerre ! you 're worser 

dan before, 
I wonder w'at you do wit' all your schoolin' ! 



Come out from onderneat' de bed, Lisette, 

I believe you was de fattes' of de lot; 
It 's handy too of course, for you never feel de 

wet. 
An' w'en you lak to try it, O! w'at a voice 

you got ! 
So let us play it 's blowin' hard, an' duck is up 

de win' 
An' you want to reach dem — sure — now we 're 

ready for begin, 
Hooraw! an' never min' de noise dat you 're 

makin'. t 

Quack! quack! quack! quack! O! let me 
tak' de gun 
For I would n't be astonish w'en Lisette is 
get de start, 
Roun' de house dey '11 come a-fiyin', an' den 
we '11 have de fun ! 
Yass, yass, kip up de flappin', O! ain't 
she ofot de heart ! 



Bateese and his Little Decoys 139 

Not many duck can beat her, an' I wish I had 

some more, 
Can mak' de song lak dat upon de water! 

Dat 's very funny how it ketch de crowd! 

An' now dey 're goin, all de younger wan! 
But if you don't stop singin' out so loud, 

I 'm sorry I mus' tole you all begone, 
'Cos I want to go to sleep, for I 'm very very 

tire, 
An' de shiver 's comin' on me! so Marie poke 

up de fire 
An' mebbe I '11 feel better on de morning. 

De leetle duck may call on de spring tam an' 

de fall 
Wen dey see de wil' bird flyin' on de air 
Dey may cry aroun' hees door, but he '11 never 

come no more 
For showin' dem de lesson! ole Jean Bateese 

Belair. 



Phil-o-Rum's Canoe 

OMA ole canoe ! w'at 's matter wit' you, 
an' w'y was you be so slow ? 
Don't I work hard enough on de paddle, an' 

still you don't seem to go — 
No win' at all on de fronte side, an' current 

she don't be strong, 
Den w'y are you lak lazy feller, too sleepy for 
move along ? 



" I 'member de tam w'en you jomp de sam' as 

deer wit' de wolf behin' 
An' brochet on de top de water, you scare 

heem mos' off hees min' ; 
But fish don't care for you now at all, only jus' 

mebbe wink de eye. 
For he know it 's easy git out de way w'en you 

was a passin' by." 

I 'm spikin' dis way jus' de oder day w'en I 'm 

out wit' de ole canoe, 
Crossin' de point w'ere I see las' fall wan very 

beeg caribou, 

140 



Phil-o-Rum's Canoe 141 

Wen somebody say, " Phil-o-rum, mon vieux, 
wat 's matter wit' you youse'f ? " 

An' who do you s'pose was talkin' ? w'y de 
poor ole canoe shese'f. 



O yass, I 'm scare w'en I 'm sittin' dere, an' 
she 's callin' ma nam' dat way: 
Phil-o-rum Juneau, w'y you spik so moche, 
you 're off on de head to-day 
Can't be you forget ole feller, you an' me 

we 're not too young, 
An' if I 'm lookin' so ole lak you, I t'ink I 
will close ma tongue. 



"You should feel ashame; for you 're alway 

blame, w'en it is n't ma fault at all 
For I 'm tryin' to do bes' I can for you on sum- 

mer-tam, spring, an' fall. 
How offen you drown on de reever if I 'm not 

lookin' out for you 
W'en you 're takin' too moche on de w'isky 

some night comin' down de Soo. 

" De firse tam we go on de Wessoneau no fel- 
ler can beat us den, 

For you 're purty strong man wit' de paddle, 
but dat 's long ago ma frien', 



142 Phil-o-Rum's Canoe 

An' win' she can blow off de mountain, an' 

tender an' rain may come, 
But camp see us bote on de evening — you know 

dat was true Phil-o-rum. 



An' who 's your horse too, but your ole 

canoe, an' w'en you feel cole an' wet 
Who was your house w'en I 'm upside down 

an' onder de roof you get, 
Wit' rain ronnin' down ma back, Bapteme! till 

I 'm gettin' de rheumateez. 
An' I never say not'ing at all, moi-meme, but 

let you do jus' you please. 

You t'ink it was right, kip me out all night 
on reever side down below. 
An' even ' Bon Soir ' you was never say, but 

off on de camp you go 
Lefifin' your poor ole canoe behin' lyin' dere 

on de groun' 
Watchin' de moon on de water, an' de bat 
flyin' all aroun'. 



" O! dat 's lonesome t'ing hear de grey owl 

sing up on de beeg pine tree 
An' many long night she kip me awake till sun 

on de eas' I see. 



Phil-o-Rum's Canoe 143 

An' den you come down on de morning for 

start on some more voyage, 
An' only t'ing decen' you do all day is carry 

me on portage. 



" Dat 's way Phil -o- rum, rheumateez she 

come, wit' pain ronnin' troo ma side 
Wan leetle hole here, noder beeg wan dere, dat 

not'ing can never hide; 
Don't do any good fix me up agen, no matter 

how moche you try. 
For w'en we come ole an' our work she 's 

done, bote man an' canoe mus' die." 



" Wall! she talk dat way mebbe mos' de day, 

till we 're passin' some beaver dam 
An' wan de young beaver he 's mak' hees tail 

come down on de water flam ! 
I never see de canoe so scare, she jomp nearly 

two, t'ree feet 
I t'ink she was goin' for ronne away, an' she 

shut up de mout' toute suite. 

It mak' me feel queer, de strange t'ing I hear, 
an' I 'm glad she don't spik no more. 

But soon as we fin' ourse'f arrive over dere on 
de noder shore 



144 Phil-o-Rum's Canoe 

I tak' dat canoe lak de lady, an' carry her off 

wit' me, 
For I 'm sorry de way I treat her, an' she 

know more dan me, sapree ! 

Yass! dat 's smart canoe, an' I know it 's true, 

w'at she 's spikin' wit' me dat day, 
I 'm not de young feller I use to be w'en work 

she was only play ; 
An' I know I was comin' closer on place w'ere 

I mus' tak' care 
Were de mos' worse current 's de las' wan too, 

de current of Dead Riviere. 

You can only steer, an' if rock be near, wit' 

wave dashin' all aroun'. 
Better mak' leetle prayer, for on Dead Riviere 

some very smart man get drown ; 
But if you be locky an' watch youse'f, mebbe 

reever won't seem so wide, 
An' firse t'ing you know you '11 ronne ashore, 

safe on de noder side. 



The Log Jam 



DERE 's a beeg jam up de reever, w'ere 
rapide is runnin' fas', 
An' de log we cut las' winter is takin' it all 
de room ; 
So boss of de gang is swearin', for not'ing at 
all can pass 
An' float away down de current till some- 
body break de boom. 

" Here 's for de man will tak' de job, holiday 
for a week 
Extra monee w'en pay day come, an' ten 
dollar suit of clothes. 
'T is n't so hard work run de log, if only you 
do it quick — 
Were 's de man of de gang den is ready 
to say, ' Here goes ? ' " 

Dere was de job for a feller, handy an' young 
an' smart, 
Willin' to tak' hees chances, willin' to risk 
hees life. 

lO , 

145 



146 The Log Jam 

'Cos many a t'ing is safer, dan tryin' de boom 
to start, 
For if de log wance ketch you, dey 're cut- 
tin' you lak a knife. 



Aleck Lachance he lissen, an' answer heem 
right away 
'* Marie Louise dat 's leevin' off on de shore 
close by 
She 's sayin' de word was mak' me mos' hap- 
pies' man to-day 
An' if you ax de reason I 'm ready to go, 
dat 's w'y." 



Pierre Delorme he 's spikin' den, an' O! but 

he 's lookin' glad. 
" Dis morning de sam' girl tole me, she mus' 

say to me, ' Good-bye Pierre.' 
So no wan can stop me goin', for I feel I was 
comin' mad 
An' wedder I see to-morrow, dat 's not'ing, 
for I don't care." 



Aleck Lachance was steady, he 's bully boy all 
aroun', 
Alway sendin' de monee to hees moder 
away below, 



The Log Jam i47 

Now an' den savin' a leetle for buyin' de house 
an' groun', 
An' never done' t'inkin', t'inkin' of Marie 
Louise Lebeau. 



Pierre v^^as a half-breed feller, we call heem de 
grand Nor' Wes' — 
Dat is de place he 's leevin' w'en he work 
for de Compagnie, 
Dey say he 's marry de squaw dere, never min' 
about all de res' — 
An' affer he get hees monee, he 's de boy 
for de jamboree! 

Ev'ry wan start off cheerin' w'en dey pass on 
de log out dere 
Jompin' about lak monkey, Aleck an' Pierre 
Delorme. 
Workin' de sam' as twenty, an' runnin' off 
ev'ryw'ere, 
An' busy on all de places, lak beaver before 
de storm. 

Den we hear some wan shoutin', an' dere was 
dat crazy girl, 
Marie Louise, on de hillside, cryin' an' raisin' 
row. 



148 The Log Jam 

Could n't do not'ing worser! mos' foolish t'ing 
on de worl' 
For Pierre Delorme an' Aleck was n't 
workin' upon de scow. 



Bote of dem turn aroun' dere w'en girl is com- 
mencin' cry, 
Lak woman I wance remember, got los' on 
de bush t'ree day, 
" Look how de log is movin' ! I 'm seein' it 
wit' ma eye, 
Come back out of all dem danger! " an' den 
she was faint. away. 

Ten year I been reever driver, an' mebbe 
know somet'ing too, 
An' dere was n't a man don't watch for de 
minute dem log she go; 
But never a word from de boss dere, stannin' 
wit' all hees crew. 
So how she can see dem movin' don't ax 
me, for I dunno. 

Hitch dem all up togeder, t'ousan' horse crazy 
mad — 
Only a couple of feller for han'le dem ev'ry 
wan, 



The Log Jam 149 

Scare dem wit' t'onder an' lightning, an' den 't 
is n't half so bad 
As log runnin' down de rapide, affer de 
boom she 's gone. . 



See dem nex' day on de basin, you t'ink dey 
was t'roo de fight 
Cut wit' de sword an' bullet, lyin' along de 
shore 
You 'd pity de log, I 'm sure, an' say 't was 
terrible sight 
But man goin' t'roo de sam' t'ing, you 'd 
pity dat man some more. 

An' Pierre w'en he see dem goin' an' log jom- 
pin' up an' down 
De sign of de cross he 's makin' an' dive on 
de water dere, 
He know it *s all up hees chances, an' he rader 
be goin' drown 
Dan ketch by de rollin' timber, an' dat 's 
how he go, poor Pierre. 

Aleck's red shirt is blazin' off w'ere we hear de 
log 
Crackin' away an' bangin', sam' as a bonder 
gun, 



1 50 The Log Jam 

Lak' sun on de morning tryin' to peep t'roo 

de reever fog — 
• But Aleck's red shirt is redder dan ever I see 

de sun. 



An' w'en dey 're tryin' wake her: Marie 

Louise Lebeau, 
On her neck dey fin' a locket, she 's kipin' so 

nice an' warm, 
An' dey 're tolin' de funny story, de funnies' 

I dunno — 
For de face, Bapteme! dey see dere, was de 

half-breed Pierre Delorme! 



..'•-"•• i\^ 



At 







The Canadian Magpie 

MOS' ev'rywan lak de robin 
An' it 's pleasan' for hear heem sing, 
Affer de winter 's over 

An' it 's comin' anoder spring. 
De snow 's hardly off de mountain 
An' it 's cole too among de pine 
But you know w'en he sing, de sout' win' 
Is crowdin' heem close behin'. 



An' mebbe you hear de grosbec 

Sittin' above de nes' — 
An' you see by de way he 's goin' 

De ole man 's doin' hees bes' 
Makin' de wife an' baby 

Happy as dey can be — 
An' proud he was come de fader 

Such fine leetle familee. 
151 



152 The Canadian Magpie 

l)e i;oui:;lou of course he 's nicer 

Dan many de bird dat fly, 
Dunno vv'at we do widout heem, 

But offen I wonder w'y 
He can't stay quiet a minute 

Lak res' of de small ciseaux 
An' finish de song he 's startin' 

Till whish ! an' away he go! 

Got not'ing to say agen dem, 

De gouglou an' all de res' — 
'Cept only dey lak de comfort, 

An' come w'en it suit dem bes' — 
For soon as de summer 's passin' 

An' leaf is begin to fall — 
You '11 walk t'roo de wood an' medder 

An' never hear wan bird call. 

But come wit' me on de winter 

On place w'ere de becg tree grow 
De smoke of de log house chimley 

Will tole you de way to go — 
An' if you 're not too unlucky 

De w'iskey jack dere you '11 see 
Flyin' aroun' de shaintcc 

An' dat was de bird for me. 

You '11 mebbe not lak hecs singin' 
DouG:h it 's better dan not'inc too. 



The Canadian Magpie 153 

For affcr he do hccs bcs', dcii 

Wat more can poor Jolinnie do ? ■• 

It 's easy job sing on summer 
De sam' as de rossignol — 

But out of door on de winter 
Jus' try it youse'f — dat 's all. 

See heem dcre, now he 's comin' 

Hoppin' an' hoppin' aroun' 
Wen we start on de morning early 

l^'or work till de sun go down — 
T'row heem hees piece of breakfas' 

An' hear heem say " merci bien," 
For he 's fond of de pork, ba golly ! 

Sam' as de Canayen. 

De noise of de axe don't scare heem 

He stay wit' us all de day, 
An' w'en he was feelin' lak' it 

Ride home wit' de horse an' sleigh. 
Den affer we reach de shaintee 

He 's waitin' to see us back 
Jompin' upon de log dere 

Good leetle w'iskey jack! 

So here 's to de bird of winter 

Wearin' de coonskin coat, 
W'enever it 's bird election 

You bet he can get ma vote — 



154 The Canadian Magpie 

Dat 's way I be feel about it, 
Voyageurs let her go today! 

W'iskey jack, get ready, we drink you 
Toujours h vot' bonne sante ! 
Bapteme ! 



The Red Canoe 

DE win' is sleepin' in de pine, but O! de 
night is black ! 
An' all day long de loon bird cry on Lac Waya- 

gamack- — 
No light is shinin' by de shore for helpin' steer 

heem t'roo 
Wen out upon de night, Ubalde he tak' de 
red canoe. 

I hear de paddle dip, dip, dip! wance more I 

hear de loon — 
I feel de breeze was show de way for storm 

dat 's comin' soon, 
An' den de sky fly open wit' de lightning 

splittin' t'roo — 
An' 'way beyon' de point I see de leetle red 

canoe. 



It 's dark again, but lissen how across Waya- 
gamack 

De tonder 's roarin' loud, an' now de mount- 
ains answer back — 



155 



156 The Red Canoe 

I wonder wit' de noise lak dat, he hear me, le 

bon Dieu 
Wen on ma knee I ax Heem save de leetle red 

canoe! 

Is dat a voice, so far aw^y, it die upon ma ear? 
Or only win' was foolin' me, an' w'isperin' 

" Belzemire " ? 
Yaas, yaas, Ubalde, your Belzemire she 's 

prayin' hard for you — 
An' den again de lightning come, but w'ere 's 

de red canoe ? 

Dey say I 'm mad, dem foolish folk, cos w'en 

de night is black 
An* w'en de wave lak snow-dreef come on Lac 

Wayagamack 
I tak' de place w'ere long ago we use to sit, us 

two. 
An' wait until de lightning bring de leetle red 
canoe. 



Xwo Hundred Years Ago 

Two bonder year ago, de worl' is purty slow 
Even folk upon dis contree 's not so 
smart, 
Den who is travel roun' an' look out de 
pleasan' groun' 
For geev' de Yankee peop' a leetle start ? 
I '11 tole you who dey were! de beeg rough 

voyageurs. 
Wit deir cousin w'at you call coureurs de bois, 
Dat 's fightin' all de tarn, an' never care a dam, 
An' ev'ry wan dem feller he 's come from 
Canadaw 

Bapteme ! 
He 's comin' all de way from Canadaw. 



But He watch dem, le bon Dieu, for He 's got 
some work to do. 
An He won't trus' ev'ry body, no siree! 
Only full blood Canadien, lak Marquette an' 
Hennepin, 
An' w'at you t'ink of Louis Verandrye ? 
157 



158 Two Hundred Years Ago 

On church of Bonsecours! makin' ready for 

de tour, 
See dem down upon de knee, all prayin' dere — 
Wit' de paddle on de han' ev'ry good Canad- 

ien man, 
An' affer dey be finish, hooraw for anyw'ere. 

Yass, sir! 
Dey 're ready now for goin' anyw'ere. 

De nort' win' know dem well, an' de prairie 
grass can tell 
How offen it is trample by de ole tarn botte 
sauvage — 
An' grey wolf on hees den kip very quiet, w'en 
He hear dem boy a' singin' upon de long 
portage. 
An' de night would fin' dem lie wit' deir faces 

on de sky. 
An' de breeze would come an' w'isper on deir 

ear 
'Bout de wife an' sweetheart dere on Sorel an' 

Trois Rivieres 
Dey may never leev' to see anoder year, 

Dat 's true, 
Dey may never leev' to kiss anoder year. 

An' you '11 know de place dey go, from de 
canyon down below, 
Or de mountain wit' hees nose above de cloud. 



Two Hundred Years Ago 159 

De lake among de hill, w'ere de grizzly drink 

hees fill 
Or de rapid on de reever roarin' loud ; 
Ax de wir deer if de flash of de ole Tree 

Reever sash 
He don't see it on de woods of Illinois 
An' de musk ox as he go, w'ere de camp fire 

melt de snow, 
De smell he still remember of tabac Canadien 

Ha! Ha! 
It 's hard forgettin' smell of tabac Canadien ! 

So, ma frien', de Yankee man, he mus' try an' 

understan' 
Wen he holler for dat flag de Star an' 

Stripe, 
If he 's leetle win' still lef, an' no danger hurt 

hese'f, 
Den he better geev' anoder cheer, ba cripe! 
For de flag of la belle France, dat show de way 

across 
From Louisbourg to Florida an' back; 
So raise it ev'ryw'ere, lak' de ole tam voy- 

ageurs, 
Wen you hear of de la Salle an' Cadillac — 

H 00 raw! 
For de flag of de la Salle an' Cadillac. 




i6i 



JOHNNIE COURTEAU 

AND OTHER POEMS 

By William Henry Drummond, author of " The Habitant 
and other French Canadian Poems." Fully illustrated by 
Frederick Simpson Coburn. 
Popular Edition. 8vo. (By mail $1.35) . . net %i.2^ 
Large Paper Edition. With 17 photogravure illus- 
trations and text cuts. (By mail $2.65) . . ;/d'/ $2.50 

It is unusual nowadays for the volume of poems to meet 
with an extended sale, but of Dr. Drummond's collection of 
poems entitled "The Habitant," 25,000 copies have been 
sold. His new volume strikes the same note in singing of the 
simple sturdy characters of the North woods. Dr. Drummond 
is himself a Canadian as is also Mr. Coburn, the illustrator. 



THE HABITANT 

AND OTHER FRENCH CANADIAN POEMS 

By William Henry Drummond. Illustrated by Frederick 
Simpson Coburn. 

Popular Edition. Illustrated. 8vo $1-25 

Large Paper Edition. With 14 photogravure illustra- 
tions 2.50 

" Dr. Drummond has managed to move us to tears, as well as laughter. 
He has evidently a minute knowledge of, and a kindly sympathy with the 
simple country folk of the Dominion. As a whole the book is a most 
delightful one." — London Spectator. 

" Marks a distinct advance in Canadian literature. As a runner of an 
unblazed trail Dr. Drummond has done an important service to Canada, to 
the habitant, and to lovers of clean, wholesome writing." — Outing. 



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, NEW YORK AND LONDON 



PHIL=0=RUM'5 CANOE 

And Madeleine Vercheres. Two Poems. By William 
Henry Drummond, author of "The Habitant." With five 
photogravure illustrations by Frederick Simpson Coburn. 
i6mo, 75 cts. 

PRESS NOTICES 

" Breathes throughout the odors and pulses with the life of the primeval 
forest." — Evetiiiig Post, Chicago. 

" In ' Madeleine Vercheres ' Drummond reminds us forcibly of Macaulay. 
— ' Phil-o-Rum's Canoe' overflows with humor and pathos." — Times- 
Herald, Chicago. 

" Most appropriate souvenir of Canada and of this festive season. 
' Phil-o-Rum's Canoe ' is the story told by the canoe when its work is 
almost over, when the paddle has ceased its song, and the Dead Rivere 
is just ahead." — Montreal Herald. 

"In ' Phil-o-Rum's Canoe' Dr. Drummond opens up the founts of tears 
and laughter, and touches the simpler things of life, so as to stir the 
depths of human tenderness." — A/ontreal Gazette. 

" Both author and artist enter most heartily and sympathetically into the 
life of Lower Canada, and portray its humor and pathos, its spirit and 
legends, in a way that is finding a world-wide audience. ' Phil-o-Rum's 
Canoe ' is captivating and delightful." — Christian Guardian, Toronto. 

" ' Le Canot de Phil-o-Rum ' et ' Madeleine Vercheres' sontdeu.xnouveaux 
poemes, qui ceux de 'L'Habitanl' revelent tout le patriotisme, toute la 
sincerite, tout a la naivete, toute la poesie enfin, de nos raves paysans." 
— La Presse, Montreal. 

" Gracieux et charmant qu'on aime toujours a relire." — La Patrie, 
Montreal. 



Q. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, New York and London 



